


Find a Way Home

by alby_mangroves, Elemental1025



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Recovery, Supersoldiers in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:06:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elemental1025/pseuds/Elemental1025
Summary: After months of fruitless searching Steve Rogers has decided to stop looking for Bucky Barnes. It was a hard choice, but Steve finally understands that Bucky doesn’t want to be found and he’s determined to respect that. Until a note from a mysterious figure changes everything.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 263
Kudos: 622
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Prologue

__

_“Shit!”_

Bucky tried to stifle the gasp of pain as he reached under his coat, tightening the strap on his tac vest, hoping to staunch the flow of blood. He moved quickly through the maze of buildings, the various levels of the complex both helping and hindering his efforts to find cover. He finally found a tight crease designed for maintenance access between two buildings and he leaned heavily against the rough concrete, trying to catch his breath.

“Fucking _idiot_.”

This was not supposed to happen. This was only supposed to be a surveillance mission. He’d been curious to find out what had been so interesting about a medical conference on prosthetics, but he’d only wanted to gather intel. He hadn’t intended any engagement. 

But then it suddenly hit him what they were after and something had shifted in his brain. Now the information on that tiny startup company they’d accessed made sense, and the intel he’d gotten from his contact in Vienna took on a new and terrifying implication.

If someone really was trying to restart the SuperSoldier program, they wanted integrated cybernetic enhancements as part of that program.

“ _Fuck_.”

The plates in his left arm shifted erratically. He could feel the panic rising in his chest as his thoughts started to spiral, the scent of his own blood nearly making him retch. He took in a shaky breath and counted to ten. He needed to focus or he wasn’t going to be able to get himself out of this. And then it wouldn’t matter that he’d stopped them tonight, because then they would have _him_. And he couldn’t... 

_“Stop it,”_ he snapped at himself. 

They had gotten in a lucky shot, but he had hurt them too and right now he had the advantage. He melted deeper into the shadows and waited, falling back on training and sheer stubbornness. If they found him, he’d deal with it. 

He heard a boot scrape on the promenade above him. 

“Anything?” That was the one that carried the Glock. He sounded very annoyed and Bucky allowed himself a grim smile.

“No… fucking ghost.” That was the TEC-9, the one whose arm he’d broken. He sounded like Bucky felt. 

“Ok, this is a bust. We’ll have to regroup, see what the fuck they want to do now.”

“I’ll call everyone in.”

As they moved away, Bucky tracked the sound, and then continued to scan all the various levels of the medical campus for any flicker of movement. There wasn’t much time now before dawn would start to thin the shadows he was using for cover, so he needed to move and soon. But he was also losing a lot of blood.

Bone-headed didn’t even begin to describe this fiasco. There was no question that he’d been slipping lately. Even after more than a year, he still wasn't used to having to look after himself and things like food sometimes didn’t enter his mind, especially when he was following an active lead like tonight. 

JC would have kicked his ass if he knew Bucky had gone out with only three hours sleep in the last three days. But he’d never had to think about any of that before, Hydra had always made sure their property was in good working order and... well, that wasn’t his reality anymore. 

He tried to take another deep breath, and yep things were definitely broken. He could also feel the sharp sting from the two bullets - including the one that was still lodged somewhere in his back - but at least he was operational.

Truthfully, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Really, it wasn’t, but he needed someplace secure to tend to it all the same and his current crash pad was too far away to be a viable option.

He banged his head back against the wall that might have been all that was holding him up, trying to think. An idea had come to him as soon as he’d been hit, but he wasn’t ready for that. There had to be another option, but for the life of him he just couldn’t think of one.

Steve’s meeting was at 7am, which… leave it to that lunatic to schedule a meeting at that ungodly hour, but it worked in Bucky’s favor because it meant he knew where Steve would be and all he’d have to do was wait. 

Wait and second guess himself. And probably third and fourth guess too. To say things were complicated was the understatement of the century, but he just didn’t have a choice. 

Finally satisfied that all the members of this particular Hydra cell had crawled back under their rock, he carefully eased out from cover and followed the steps back down to street level, blending in with the crowd of early morning commuters. 

_Thank god_ , he thought, and not for the first time, _for the city that never sleeps._

__


	2. Chapter 1

Steve studied his reflection in the mirror. The mist from his shower softened the edges and blurred the details of his face. He could have been anyone.

Tony and Pepper would be calling him soon so he collected his laptop and moved downstairs, settling comfortably on the couch. 

He clicked on the Stark Industries icon to open his connection, but groaned when the video wasn’t working again.

Maria had helped him install some custom encryption software on his personal equipment and it could be temperamental, especially when he was using StarkTec. 

The laptop pinged and Tony’s voice came over the speaker, “Cap, are you there?”

“Yes, Tony, I’m here.” Steve opened the settings tab and browsed quickly through the options. 

“But… I can’t see you.” 

“I’m aware, Tony.” Troubleshooting tech issues with Tony looking over his virtual shoulder maybe wasn’t the easiest way to start the morning, but it actually gave him a little thrill to see how fast he could manage it.

“Okay, I know I’ve asked this before but… _Pleeeease_ , let me upgrade your home system? Seriously, let me hook you up, grandpa. If we modernized your equipment there _JUST A TAD_ , we wouldn’t have these issues.” 

“I’ve told you before Tony, it’s not an equipment issue and as much as I appreciate the offer, I’m still not letting you use it as an excuse to invade my apartment.” Finding the glitch was turning out to be a little trickier than he’d hopped, but he was undeterred. 

“Oh _ho_ , you are a snarky bitch before your morning cup o’ joe. But seriously, you should totally let me upgrade you.”

“No thanks, Tony. I’m good.” In fact, as good a friend as Tony had become, Steve especially didn’t want him anywhere near the inside of his apartment. External security was one thing, but inside was a different matter entirely. 

“Ooop, Pep’s here. Hi sweetheart, how is London?”

“It’s cold! Steve are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here Pepper. I just need to tweak a couple of things at my end. Thanks for setting up the meeting for me with your Outreach team. Without any aliens to fight, I’m feeling a little redundant.”

“I can always whip up another Ultron if you want--”

“No!” Both Steve and Pepper shouted their answer in unison, it had become something of a running joke but the fact that Tony still brought it up always made Steve wonder how much of a joke it really was. 

Before Tony could reply, Steve hit the final keystrokes that would fix his connection, “Okay, here we go.”

“Aaaanyway… oh hey, there you are. How’s it… wait, is that…” Tony peered at him through the screen and Steve steeled himself for Tony’s reaction. 

Tony continued to stare. Finally Pepper said, a hint of affectionate exasperation in her voice, “Yes Tony, it’s a beard.” And then to Steve, “I think it looks nice.” 

Steve relaxed and smiled, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah… it looks really good. Just, really different. Seriously, I almost didn’t recognize you for a second.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Yes, because a little facial hair is a great disguise.”

“Well, you know… as someone who has worn literally every iteration of facial hair known to man, it’s definitely part of an image.” Tony scratched his immaculately trimmed goatee and winked in what was presumably Pepper’s direction. 

Steve tried not to squirm a little uncomfortably on the couch. Unwittingly or not, Tony had hit on something Steve hadn’t realized earlier. The beard felt comfortable, made him feel more like Steve Rogers rather than Captain America, even though he’d never been able to grow one before the serum. And maybe he’d have to think about that more later, but right now, this was essentially a business meeting.

“Right, so speaking of image. What do I need to know before this meeting today?”

Pepper proceeded to give him a rundown as concise as any sitrep he’d ever received, including a detailed dossier of all the people involved, while Tony continued to stare. 

* * *

With Pepper’s intel under his belt, Steve felt confident going to meet with the Student Outreach team that would be in charge of the PSA program for the Department of Education. He’d floated the idea with Pepper that he wanted to do something that could help kids, and this was the first - hopefully of many - possible projects.

But Tony was not wrong, he clearly needed the coffee as well. 

The Perfect Perk was always packed, even this early in the day, and he took his place in the sort-of-line that formed as people crowded into the tight space. 

He turned towards the dark roast board looking for something with strong flavors, but before he could even glance at what the specials were, a whiff of something that definitely wasn’t coffee had his senses kicking into overdrive. 

Sometimes having a heightened sense of smell was a bitch, especially in the middle of New York. But this wasn’t the sharp stench from every garbage day in July, or the ever-present smell of piss floating up from the nearest subway grate, this was blood. 

And a lot of it. 

Steve tried not to make a face as the odor began to overpower even the strong aroma from the café’s premium grind and he tried to focus on what Natasha had pounded into him about maintaining his demeanor instead of reacting first and asking questions later. 

Tactics he knew, but spy stuff was something he was still learning. He just didn’t have Natasha's capacity for detachment, so instead he concentrated on continuing to read the menu board, while using every sensory enhancement Erskine’s formula had given him to survey his surroundings. 

Nothing seemed to be wrong, however. The other customers were all just waiting, the same as he was, for their double espressos and chai lattes and freshly baked bagels. But the scent of blood eventually became so strong that he had to consciously keep himself from checking everyone around him for gaping flesh wounds. 

It was colder than usual outside, even for November, so everyone was bundled up. It made it hard to see faces with scarves and hats covering as much skin as possible, but no one looked to be in any kind of obvious distress. It was possible that there wasn’t anything terribly wrong, and Steve’s preference was to avoid a scene. On the other hand, it really smelled like a lot of blood. 

Before he could decide on a course of action, the woman in front of him turned abruptly, bashing him with her oversized bag as she pushed her way to the exit. At that same exact moment, he felt a soft but intentional brush of a hand slipping something into the back pocket of his jeans. 

Even if he hadn’t already been on high alert, he still would have noticed it because the owner of the hand had intended him to. 

It was a slick move, waiting until he was boxed in, and Steve had to admire the timing of it even as he made the split-second decision not to plow through the crowd to catch up to the rapidly disappearing figure. He had turned as quickly as he could, but all he saw was a broad back in a blue wool coat, with shoulder length brown hair under a dark watch cap. 

It could have been anyone, but he knew it wasn’t. 

After DC, he’d seen long dark hair and broad shoulders everywhere, even knowing Bucky would have probably changed his appearance if he’d been serious about disappearing, but it didn’t stop that sharp pang of hope every single time. 

And it didn’t stop it now.

His immediate urge was to give chase, no matter how much of a head start Bucky had given himself. But he needed to do this right. If Bucky was reaching out, Steve was happy to let him set the parameters, especially if he was doing so because he was hurt. Worry immediately started to pound through Steve’s chest, but then the barista called his name and the café came back into focus. 

He managed a friendly smile as he ordered a latte because it was the first thing that popped into his head, and then stepped out of the way to wait. Once he was able to make his way out to the street again he made an effort to appear as though nothing earth shattering had happened just in case anyone had him under surveillance, but he could have been walking barefoot through broken glass and drinking battery acid for all the attention he was paying to anything other than scanning the street and trying to figure out what his next move should be. 

There was no sign of Bucky and Steve hadn’t expected that there would be. Whatever it was in his pocket, it felt like it weighed a ton, but he wanted privacy before he looked at what it was. He was only a few blocks from the appointment Pepper had set up for him, so he made sure to arrive early enough for a detour to the bathrooms before heading up.

It was just a small strip of plain white paper with a note in Bucky’s still familiar handwriting that read, _I need your help. I’ll be in touch_. 

But also, it was everything.

* * *

Steve gave a start as a hand touched his arm.

“Earth to Rogers. Man, you were off in la la land. Where were you?” Sam was smiling, but his brow was furrowed and there was a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.” Steve tried to relax the tension in his shoulders, “And speaking of, where’ve you been? It’s not like you to be late for food.”

“Yeah, I had to check into some, ah… security issues. At the new facility.”

“Oh?” Steve raised his eyebrows, “Anything you need help with?”

“Nah, we just seem to have something of an ant problem. I can handle it. So do we have a table yet? Or are you just standing out here in the cold admiring the view?”

“I was just waiting for you,” Steve said, then led Sam to one of the tables. “You don’t mind sitting outside, though, do you? They’ve got heaters.”

Sam didn’t argue exactly, but gave him a quizzical look and added, “Okay, sure. At least it’s not raining any more.” 

Once they had settled in their chairs and their server had finished setting out their water and utensils Sam asked, “So, how did the meeting go?” 

“It was fine.” Steve took a sip of his water. “They definitely know what they’re doing.” 

“I feel like I’m smelling a _but_ there.”

“No, it’s fine,” Steve shook his head and tried to figure out how to explain his unease without sounding like an ungrateful jerk. 

It had, in fact, been torture getting through the meeting and not just because of the note burning a hole in his pocket. Steve had been so excited about the project when he and Pepper had first discussed it, but it had been his understanding that it was going to be a more collaborative process. 

As the meeting had gone on, however, it had become clear that they’d already mapped out a very specific agenda and Steve’s input wasn’t needed, and by the end he’d felt as frustrated as he had when he’d been sidelined with the USO back in the war. 

It was still important work, and he was still glad to do it, but all they really wanted was the image of Captain America. “I just wish sometimes that it didn’t always have to be about the uniform.” 

“Okay, serious question. What do you think would happen if you didn’t wear it?”

“Oh, that’s definitely not part of the agenda. And that’s fine, I already knew I’d be wearing the uniform for the filming. And getting my hair cut and shaving is obviously part of that, but they were even worried about how I looked today. Like just the idea that I might look different in public during my off time was a problem they needed to discuss.”

“Yeah, I meant to say something about that,” Sam deadpanned. 

Steve tilted his head and waited. “Yeah, and?”

“Honestly, it needs work. It’s pretty scraggly. How many days is that?”

Steve grinned and eagerly rose to the bait, “It’s 3, but at least I can cover my whole face if I want.”

Sam barked out a laugh, “You just wish you could pull off the artistic perfection of my look. But seriously, they can’t tell you how to look, whether you’re wearing the suit or not! What the hell?” 

Steve smiled, Sam’s feelings about authority were well known, but his being genuinely indignant on Steve’s behalf relaxed the knot that had formed solid in his gut during the first 10 minutes of the meeting. 

“It wasn’t just that, though. I also had ideas about topics I wanted to talk about, but they already had an approved list worked out. And I know they’re the pros, but...” Steve trailed off. 

“Yeah, okay, but this is also about what you want to say too, right? This was your idea.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem like that matters much.” And really it didn’t. Steve could suck it up and do his job if the end result was going to help someone. 

“Right, but I don’t know, man. I’ve watched you with kids. And with our younger vets at group? Your instincts are solid. And it doesn’t even matter what age, because I’ve seen you charm surly teenagers too. You’re honest with them, you treat them like you do everyone else, and they respond to that. If they see you trying to spout other people’s words?”

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“All I’m saying is that if something doesn’t feel right to you, there’s usually a pretty high probability that it’s not right.”

* * *

By the time the food had been ordered and eaten, Steve was ready to crawl out of his skin. Bucky always used to rib him about his lack of patience and he half wondered if Bucky had set this scenario up on purpose just to torture him. 

Steve had been trying to come up with an excuse to beg off the training session he’d promised to attend, but nothing had come to mind that Nat wouldn’t immediately see through. So unless he was ready to tell them what was going on, he was going to have to spend the afternoon with a room full of people who knew all his tells. 

He and Sam had gone hard after Bucky once Steve had gotten out of the hospital, but it was like Bucky had truly become a ghost. With the SHIELD apparatus gone, and Fury off pursuing other interests, they'd been on their own. Nat had gotten them started with a file, but that trail had only led backwards and what they did find had made Steve’s blood run cold. 

There were boxes of files and notes that went back decades, stashed away in old bunkers or forgotten basements, scattered across multiple continents. All of it had been hard to read, and Steve found some of it hurt in ways he couldn’t really explain. He’d wanted to know. He’d needed to, but in the end none of it had helped them find Bucky. 

About a month into their search, they’d started hearing rumors about small Hydra cells trying to organize, and then suddenly just disappearing. There were a lot of theories about why that was happening, but no one really knew anything for sure. And as chaotic as everything was after the fall of Project Insight, it could have been anything up to and including aliens. 

Surprisingly, Sam had been almost as dogged as Steve was about finding Bucky. He knew how much Bucky meant to Steve, but his concern was more about whether Bucky would reinvent himself as an assassin for hire, while Steve was dreading the possibility of Bucky ending things in a different way. 

But as the months had worn on, Steve had realized that chasing Bucky wasn’t what he should be doing. And that as much as he needed Bucky, he had no idea what Bucky was going through. He had the files, but clinical notations couldn’t tell the whole story. And just because Bucky had abandoned his mission to kill Steve, it didn’t mean that he wanted anything to do with Steve now. 

Eventually he understood what Nat had meant about maybe not pulling on that thread. Steve had cycled through a lot of emotions, but over the past few months - once he had finally decided to stop chasing Bucky - he realized that this really wasn’t his choice to make. 

It was Bucky’s. 

All the possible ramifications of Bucky showing up now and smelling like he’d been injured in a fire fight, spun around in Steve’s head as he pulled onto the new Avengers Facility grounds. As he neared the main buildings, Sam was waiting for him outside and he saw that Nat and Wanda’s cars were parked nearby as well. Clint was still out at the farm with his sister, but he was scheduled to be back sometime tomorrow. 

Steve hooked his helmet on the handle bar of his motorcycle and tilted his head at Sam, “You know that’s cheating, right? You’re getting as bad as Tony, relying on your wings all the time.“

“Says the man who sleeps with an indestructible shield that defies the laws of physics tucked under his pillow every night.”

“At least mine doesn’t require a battery to operate, both you and Tony would fall out of the sky without your power source and then where would you be.” 

“You can’t rile me up just because you’re in a pissy mood. And right now you’re just pissed because Tony and I can fly and you can’t. All you can do is gracefully fall great distances.” Sam smirked at Steve’s grimace, and Steve realized that it actually could work in his favor if Sam thought the tension Steve couldn’t seem to shake was strictly about him and Tony and their fancy flying gadgets, so he continued to play it up as they walked towards the still-under-construction locker rooms. 

Natasha would have been proud, but Steve wasn’t so sure that he was. 

“Yeah, okay, I know… Tony is Tony. So I’ve been thinking, maybe we should start working on some cross-training.”

Sam’s face broke into a wide grin, “You _really_ want to try my wings, don’t you.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows, because that hadn’t occurred to him. “What? No, I was just thinking about what Wanda said. About needing more options than just her magic and that Nat and I should start working more with you guys on the hand to hand stuff. And also, I’ve been thinking… what would you say if I offered to teach you how to use the shield?”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, “Don’t tease me, man. You know how much I’ve been lusting after that thing.”

“Not teasing, I’m serious.”

Sam still eyed him skeptically, and not without reason since Steve was maybe a little bit overly protective of the shield, “For real?”

But if anyone could handle it, it was Sam. “Absolutely. Let’s get to it.”

* * *

Training had gone well, Steve had always been able to find solace and distraction in physical exertion. And Steve had been thrilled, though at all not surprised, at how fast Sam had taken to shield work.

Steve hadn’t liked keeping Sam or Natasha in the dark about Bucky. He knew without a doubt that he could trust both of them, but he needed to understand what was going on before he made any decisions he couldn’t undo. 

There had been no sign of Bucky, but Steve was still hopeful. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had put in a lot of extra effort finding his new apartment with just this possibility in mind. He had come to terms with Bucky not wanting to be found - or not wanting Steve to find him, at least - but he still hoped that Bucky might decide to come to him eventually, and he had wanted to make that as easy as possible. 

For his own use too, he’d made sure there were multiple entrances and exits to his home that only a supersoldier could make use of, and after SHIELD had bugged his last place, he also made sure to sweep the premises on an irregular schedule for bugs or any other surveillance devices. Tony and Natasha had both helped with that too, but he had a feeling that only Natasha had really understood why. 

As soon as he opened the extra heavy metal door that led to his loft, the first thing he noticed was the scent of blood, but it was faint, nothing like it had been at the café. 

He closed the door and paused just inside the doorway. 

“Buck?”

For a moment nothing happened and he was afraid he’d been wrong and that Bucky had been here, but had left already. But then he clocked movement in a dark corner. Just a slight shift that only Steve’s enhanced vision would be able to see, but it gave away Bucky’s position. 

Steve clenched his fists to steady his hands, riding out the sudden adrenaline surge, then he put his keys on the hook by the door and, keeping the lights off, moved slowly into the loft. 

“Hey.”

When he didn’t get a response, he tried again. “Just tell me what you need. You know I’ll do whatever I can.”

Silence again, but then a hint of a sigh. “I need… just someplace safe. For a little while.”

“I can do that.” Steve stopped in the middle of the open space, making sure to stay far enough away that Buck wouldn’t feel cornered. “How about if you also let me take care of whatever it is that’s making you bleed all over my floor.”

That got him a quiet snort. “I’m not bleeding on your floor.”

Bucky must have had a good view of him with the light from the street coming in through the windows, and Steve grinned widely at the familiar exasperation in Bucky’s tone. “Okay, but how about if you let me take a look at it anyway? I can still smell the blood.”

Another long pause while the shadow in the corner stayed motionless. Then another of what sounded like a deep, calming breath, “Yeah, okay.” Steve’s heart ached at how tired he sounded. 

Steve turned and started walking towards the archway beyond the kitchen; it was only a short walk down the hall that led to the downstairs bathroom, but it seemed like it went on for miles. 

Shuffling footsteps followed behind him and he allowed himself to feel the same sense of hope he’d had after he’d read Bucky’s note that morning.

Once he reached the bathroom, he propped the door wide, leaving it open. He turned the light on but moved the dimmer down to just a warm glow, and waited. 

Now, being patient wasn’t hard at all. 

His bathroom was huge. It was almost as big as the last one-room apartment he and Bucky had shared before Bucky had shipped out. That was an indulgence Steve allowed himself now: space. And the industrial style and pre-war details helped him feel just a little less out of time. 

Bucky paused at the doorway, seemingly not ready to leave the deeper shadows just yet, but Steve could still see every detail. It had been such a long time since they’d had the opportunity to just look at each other and Steve took full advantage. 

Bucky’s hair was long and unkempt, even more so than it had been on the helicarrier. He was thinner than Steve remembered, and there was a stiffness in his movements that spoke to bone-deep exhaustion. 

“No pressure, I just want to help.” Steve’s softly spoken words seem to rouse Bucky and break the stalemate. Bucky shuffled into the room, taking off the hoodie that he’d been wearing under the wool coat and dropping it on the floor as he came nearer. Steve still didn’t see any obvious injury, but he knew it was there. 

Bucky started to lift up his t-shirt, which revealed a large patch of duct tape on his right side. It was lumpy and Steve figured it was holding a wad of gauze or cloth in place, and was probably the reason Bucky wasn’t leaking on Steve’s floor at all. 

As Bucky went to grab the tape to rip it off, Steve reached out and stopped him. There was more bruising leading up under Bucky’s shirt and he wanted to get a look at that too. But he could sense that he still needed to move slowly despite Buck’s eerie compliance. 

Steve risked touching him with gentle hands that this time he failed to keep from shaking, moving Bucky’s metal one away from the tape and lifting his shirt a little higher to expose more of his torso. It was an angry mixture of red and purple and green, so it must have been from something recent. Bones had probably been broken, but it was clear it was already starting to heal. 

“Can we take this off?” Steve continued to speak softly, “It’ll make it easier to clean you up.” Bucky’s jaw muscles clenched in a way Steve knew intimately and the familiarity of it made him want to cry or sing, he really wasn’t sure which, especially when Bucky didn’t say no. And with a small nod, Bucky moved his arms allowing Steve to lift the shirt off over his head. 

Steve had never seen where the metal of his arm met Bucky’s flesh, but it wasn’t as damaged as he’d imagined. There was scarring, obviously, but the seam looked secure and healed. 

He didn’t want Bucky to feel like he was a specimen under a microscope, a feeling Steve was all too familiar with, so he reached for the tape to get an idea of how secure it was. There was a little give to it, Bucky had obviously been sweating, so it came off a little easier than it might have otherwise. 

He still had to give it a firm tug, but Bucky didn’t even flinch. Once he took the gauze off, he saw the bullet holes and they immediately started to ooze blood when the pressure was removed. There were two entry wounds in Bucky’s back, but only one exit wound near his hip. 

“There’s still one in there?”

Bucky nodded, his head bowed like he was too tired to hold it up any longer, hair covering half of his face like a curtain. Exhaustion was etched in every line of his body. 

“I know it will still heal, but that will give you trouble if we don’t get it out.”

“Yeah, I know.” He paused to take a breath, “I need help to get it out though.”

“Okay, we can do that. Just let me get some stuff ready first.” Steve kept talking, calm and easy, as he reached for the low wooden stool that he kept in the bathroom, “I’m gonna go change in case things get a little messy, you wanna take the rest of your stuff off, then I can get everything washed for you?” 

Bucky didn’t hesitate, just starting unbuttoning his jeans. Once he pulled them down to his thighs, he used the stool so he could sit and work on the laces of his boots. 

Steve left him to it, and went to change into his rattiest, most comfortable t-shirt and sweats. Bucky’s proximity, and the fact that he wasn’t running or fighting had started Steve’s nerves buzzing anew and he needed the familiar comfort. 

When Steve returned, he found Bucky sitting on the concrete floor in his underwear, stool pushed aside and the rest of his clothes piled up in the corner where he’d left his hoodie. His flesh hand was flat on the floor, “It’s heated.”

“Yeah, pretty cool, right? It’s especially nice when there’s two feet of snow outside.” He grinned when Bucky nodded like he approved.

Bucky looked up at him, a little embarrassed, “Sorry, I got a little dizzy so I figured closer to the ground was probably better.” His voice was steadier. It still sounded rough from disuse, but much better than it had at first. 

Steve grabbed the first aid kit from the open shelves by the door and joined Bucky on the floor. He had an idea of how he wanted to do this but he wasn’t sure if Bucky would agree, because it would put him in a vulnerable position. 

He opened the kit and set it out beside him, taking his time pulling out what he was going to need. He could’ve probably performed major surgery with it, and he’d had occasion to know that it was more than adequate to dig a bullet out of a supersoldier, but he’d never dug around in someone else’s body before. 

Before he could say anything, Bucky asked, “So where do you want me?” The trust in his eyes clutched at Steve’s heart. He had missed this - what they were to each other - so fucking much it made it hard to breathe for a moment. But he needed to get his shit together, because Bucky needed his help, so he reached out to pull Bucky towards him, easing him down so he was lying on his side using Steve’s lap for a pillow. 

The metal of Bucky’s arm scraped a little on the concrete as he shifted into a comfortable position and Steve couldn’t help threading his fingers gently through Bucky’s hair. 

“I know I don’t have to tell you that this is gonna hurt, but I’ll be as quick as I can and you can squeeze my leg as hard as you need to.” 

He felt a little pressure on his leg and got a small nod, so he stopped wasting time and got to work. Fortunately the second bullet hadn’t penetrated too deeply, but his digging around for it did pull a few muffled grunts from Bucky. There was now a lot more blood, but he was able to get the bullet out without too much trouble and clean both wounds, rinsing all the blood away with warm water. 

Afterwards, neither of them moved, both content to just sit and be still. 

Eventually, Steve eased up on the pressure he’d been applying to the wound and leaned down to see if the bleeding had slowed. He could see Bucky had his eyes closed, still clutching Steve’s leg and Steve wasn’t sure whether Bucky was asleep or not. He began sorting through his ABD pads for the right size, and then gently cupped the back of Bucky’s head, brushing his thumb lightly against his scalp. 

“Buck? You awake?”

He heard a muffled, “Sorta,” so he began to maneuver Bucky around a little. Bucky was pliant in his grip and eventually Steve had the compression bandage taped firmly around Bucky’s side. 

“How about if we move this to the bed?”

Bucky groaned and buried his face against Steve’s thigh, causing a reaction as unexpected as it was untimely, but then Steve’s body had always reacted to Bucky on its own whim and he had never had much say in it. 

Bucky peeked up at him with one eye, “You mean the bed that’s up those ridiculous spiral stairs?” The dubious attitude that came through even though Bucky appeared more than half asleep made Steve smile again.

“Hey, they look beautiful though, right? I spent a month rooting through salvage stores to find those. And it’s not that bad, I’ll help.”

“You gonna carry me?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, “I can. You want potato sack style, or bridal style?”

Bucky snorted then started to push himself up slowly, his eyes still half-lidded and his movements slow and cautious. “How about a piggy back ride.” His expression and tone seemed to imply that he was talking about something Steve should recognize.

Steve broke into a wide grin, “You remember that?”

Bucky’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Easiest way to get you home with messed up ribs.”

Steve reached out and brushed some of the hair back from Bucky’s forehead, then felt his own face heat up when Bucky even just slightly leaned into it. 

“We got such looks for that. But it was worth it to smash that guy’s face in for what he said to…” Steve paused to search his memory. 

“Beatrice.” Bucky grinned. 

“Right… she always gave us an extra scoop of ice cream in our sodas.”

“She was a nice lady.”

“She was.” Steve caught himself staring at eyes that looked silver-blue in the dim light, it would be so easy to just lean over and kiss him.

“So are we doing this, or what?” Bucky words were barely above a whisper. 

Steve pulled in a breath and nodded, pulling the stool over for Bucky to settle on. Steve turned around and crouched in front of him while Bucky brought his knees up around Steve’s waist, hooking his flesh arm over Steve’s shoulder. Steve hitched his arms under Bucky’s thighs and stood up easily. Bucky barely weighed anything at all. 

As they made their way up the stairs, Bucky laid his head on Steve’s shoulder. Maybe it wasn’t quite as easy as Steve had implied, not with the bulk of two supersoldiers trying to take tight turns up the narrow space, but hell would freeze over before Steve would admit that. 

He made sure to take it slow, which worked to his advantage since he wanted to prolong the feel of Bucky clutching at his chest as much as possible as they went up. The memories that flooded back were more sweet than bitter, and he wouldn’t have traded any of them for anything. 

Once he got them safely up the stairs, he eased Bucky down on the edge of the bed then went to grab a pair of sweats for him to use. 

“Do you want a t-shirt?”

Bucky shook his head, “It’s not that cold in here.”

“How about some food?”

Bucky wrinkled his eyes, a little sheepish, “I... actually already raided your kitchen.”

Steve carefully hid his elation that Bucky had not only felt comfortable enough in his place to take liberties, but that he was actually joking about it.

“Okay, I’ll let you stretch out up here while I go back down and take care of your clothes.”

As Steve turned to leave, Bucky stopped him. “Steve,” he paused, like there was more he wanted to say, but all he added was, “Thanks.”

Steve offered a smile, trying to put as much of what he was feeling into it as he could, “Any time, Buck.” 

Bucky nodded, as much in acknowledgement of what Steve didn’t say as what he did, and Steve headed back downstairs.

All afternoon, he had been afraid of how things might be between them now. They had barely spoken to each other in DC, so it was hard to know what a real conversation would be like, but all Steve could do was marvel at just how easy it had been to click back into the same easy rapport they’d had, like almost no time at all had passed. 

Steve didn’t really believe in soulmates, but he did believe that some people just fit together, all the rough edges smoothing out between them to make a stronger whole. Buck would have teased him mercilessly for being such a hopeless sap, but at that moment, Steve didn’t care at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for [Steve's loft apartment](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/449585975309091724/).


	3. Chapter 2

Bucky’s eyes flew open, the colors of his nightmare still sharp and vivid in his mind's eye. Red and black, always reds and blacks. Something was different this time, though. The scent of pine and vanilla, and something deep and spicy he couldn’t place surrounded him. 

_Steve_. 

Memories of the previous day flooded back, too fast to process properly. Automatically he shifted focus, his body motionless as he orientated himself. It was still dark outside, but the dim light coming in through the metal-framed skylight above him meant sunrise wasn’t far off. 

He was wearing borrowed clothes, but he remembered Steve had promised to clean his and he could see the pile of what he recognized as his gear - washed and neatly folded - sitting on the dresser in front of him. 

Steve was behind him in the bed, not touching him, but close enough for Bucky to feel the warmth of Steve’s breath on his back.

He needed to move. He needed to get out of here. This wasn’t safe. 

Bucky rose carefully and quietly, trading soft and borrowed for worn and damaged, but the fabric also smelled of Steve’s soap, especially when Bucky pulled the hood up over his head. He didn’t look back to see if Steve was awake or not. Steve was letting him leave in either case, and Bucky wasn’t going to risk letting him change his mind. 

He paused just before opening the heavy front door, and sent a silent thank you before stepping back out of Steve’s life. 

He never should have done this.

He hit the sidewalk at a brisk pace, pulling his hood down to shield his face as much as he could. What the fuck had he been thinking breaking protocol with barely a hesitation. Deep down he knew why he’d done it, but now was very much not the time to deal with that. 

Physically, though, he felt good. It had been a long time since he’d been able to sleep that many hours. The last time was... god, probably Salzburg in ‘43? Christmas day, after… _oh hell no_ , he stopped that train of thought dead in its tracks. That was literally a lifetime ago. But that was the bitch of spending so much time in cryo, seventy five years ago sometimes felt more like five. 

Steve had done a good job with the field dressing. Bucky could also feel the serum doing its work, helped along by how much of Steve’s food he’d eaten. Especially those weird protein bars that were apparently something from Banner; he might have to see if he could acquire more of those. 

He ducked into a subway entrance just as it started to rain. 

* * *

The room he’d been calling home for the last six months was a perfect match to the gray blanket of drizzle that had descended over the city. The furnishings were sparse and utilitarian, and no one asked questions here.

He dumped his boots, crawled onto the bed he hadn’t made in weeks and powered up the laptop. As the familiar Hydra interface popped up, Bucky tried hard to quash the image of Pierce’s smug face that flashed into his mind every time he saw the logo. 

The access was an advantage he couldn’t afford to abandon, but some days it was harder than others to get past that opening screen. He took a breath and held it, then let it out slow and concentrated on replacing Pierce’s image with another one. 

Red lips, a strong jaw. A few days growth of a reddish gold beard, and soft hair that just started to curl at the collar when it got too long. 

Bucky caught himself staring at the blinking cursor and closed his eyes. Steve had looked almost angelic the previous night as he’d stepped into the pool of light and called Bucky’s name. Bucky knew all too well how much of an illusion that was, and he smiled at what he knew Steve’s reaction would be if he told him that. 

Then he felt eyes on him that weren’t part of a memory and his heart rate jumped. But the eyes turned out to be blue and slitted, and decidedly feline, staring at him from the window ledge. 

He always left the window open just in case, and there she was. Soaked and apparently annoyed at him for not getting back sooner. 

“Well, come in if you’re coming.” He smiled as she hesitated. She eyed him suspiciously, then leaped and darted under the bed in one fluid motion in what was actually a pretty badass move. 

Bucky stifled a laugh and crawled off the bed, digging out the food he’d bought and set everything up for her in her corner. He briefly considered getting a towel and trying to drag her out to dry her off, but then he thought about the last time he tried that and turned the tv on instead, crawling back under the covers. 

He could hear her purring, so she was probably fine. 

He must have dozed off sometime during the old Perry Mason episode, because when he woke up Jessica Fletcher was on, typing at her typewriter, and the kitten was nestled in next to him on the bed. 

She hadn’t let him hold her yet, but she was gradually starting to relax her personal space boundaries. 

He switched off the tv and carefully picked up the laptop again, trying not to disturb the furball too much, but there still wasn’t anything new. Not surprising after he’d spoiled their fun, but it did complicate things. He’d have to go at them from a different angle. 

As he buttoned up his coat and grabbed his scarf, his heart gave a weird little flip when he noticed the kitten stretch sleepily and then burrow under the covers he’d just left.

He knew it was only because they were still warm, but he was really going to miss her when she stopped coming around.

* * *

The diner JC’s family owned was only a short subway ride away, but open streets and multiple escape and evade options sounded safer despite the persistent drizzle. He also decided to take the back way into the building, just in case. 

His shoulders relaxed as soon as he closed the fire door behind him. Pausing briefly to pull down his scarf, he waved to the camera he knew was concealed in the brick and walked down the long hallway that led to a longer hallway and then eventually up into the kitchen of the building next door. 

JC was vigorously wiping down stainless steel counters, but glanced up as Bucky entered. “Hey. Long time, no see.” Nodding towards the way Bucky had come in, he asked, “You hiding or just being cautious?

“Neither really, just felt like taking the scenic route. You closed?” Bucky asked, nodding to the cold griddle and the empty kitchen.

“Not quite yet, but close. Gran is off on one of her adventures that I don’t ask too many questions about, and it’s too damn cold to get many in-house customers. Delivery and take out are busy, but we got the other storefront around the corner up and running so Ahnjong and Gi are handling that over there.”

Bucky hovered, uncertain. “If you’ve got plans then, I can--”

“No, don’t be stupid. And don’t you dare leave.” JC pointed a dripping dishrag at him to emphasize his point. “Gran was asking about you and I’ll need a full report so she doesn't yell at me. Go ahead and take a seat at the counter. There’s only a few customers left, and I already put the closed sign up. I’ll be out in just a sec.”

Bucky did as he was told, and observed that the few people scattered in the booths were all older and regulars. 

JC spoke briefly in Korean to the elderly man who waved as he left, then came over to Bucky at the counter.

“So, scenic route, huh?” JC gave him a pointed look and poured Bucky a cup of very hot coffee.

Bucky grimaced. “Ok yes, I had a little trouble yesterday, but I’m pretty sure I’m clear.”

JC was immediately concerned, “Anything you need help with?” 

Bucky opened his mouth but stopped, this was literally what he’d come here for, but he suddenly felt like an ass. 

He had first met JC a couple of weeks into his post-Hydra recovery. A busted op had left a building destroyed and the two of them as the only survivors. Circumstances had forced them into spending two tense days together, but something had clicked between them so when they’d crossed paths again, it wasn’t as adversaries. 

Bucky didn’t think it was overstating it to say that JC was a big part of why Bucky was still alive, but Bucky still only came to see him when he needed something. 

Bucky shook his head, “No, I can--”

“Stop right there.” JC glanced quickly at his remaining customers. “They’ll be finished soon, then we can talk. But whatever mental gymnastics you just went through to tell yourself you don’t need help, I’m calling bullshit.”

Bucky clutched at his coffee mug, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

It didn't take long before JC was locking the door behind the last two customers and then coming back to the counter to refill Bucky’s coffee, and pouring one for himself. 

“Okay, spill.”

Bucky swallowed, he meant to just tell him about the break-in, but instead the first thing he said was: “I got in touch with somebody yesterday. Somebody I knew. From before.”

“Oh, from when...” It took JC only a second to get it, “Oooh, _that_ somebody. I thought you didn’t want to complicate his life.”

Bucky grimaced. “I didn’t. I had a situation. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the time.”

JC raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?”

No, in point of fact, he wasn’t sure. But he still was not ready to examine that question too closely. 

Bucky felt his right hand start to shake and flattened it on the counter. 

JC knew his history and he knew a lot about Steve. He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough to realize he’d just tossed an unexploded grenade in Bucky’s lap.

In the beginning, the memories that had come back were only fragments. He’d known that Steve was important. That he was special. And something deep inside him had screamed that Steve needed to be protected, which had been in direct conflict with his mission. 

Sometimes his nightmares would take him back to that day on the helicarrier, his head feeling like it was about to split in two. Then he’d wake up shivering in soaked sheets, with too vivid images flashing through his mind like shards of broken glass.

He’d never told JC about that part, about how seeing Steve, hearing him say Bucky’s name had felt like something had reached into the center of him and pulled him out. 

It wasn't until later that Bucky had understood exactly what Steve was to him, what they had been to each other. Standing in front of the exhibit at the museum, seeing the pictures of what their life had been like, hearing the familiar voices. It all came back. 

But then other memories had started to come back as well, memories from later. And he’d realized the extent of what he’d done, and what he’d been used for. 

He always thought it was safer for everyone - especially Steve - if he kept his distance. But seeing Steve again now, talking to him… maybe that wasn’t true anymore? Sometimes it was so hard to tell the difference between what Bucky wanted to be true, and what actually was true. 

The image of Steve’s face when he was helping him into bed the night before rose up in his mind. Steve had been trying so hard to be calm, holding himself back. He’d seen it in the lines of Steve’s body, felt it when he’d carried Bucky up the stairs. 

He knew that want, recognized it. He felt it every day. But the last thing Bucky wanted was to hurt people he cared about, and none of them deserved to be burdened with his bullshit. 

JC’s voice broke into his thoughts, “When was the last time you two were able to have a conversation?”

Bucky snorted, “You mean since I nearly helped Pierce murder a few million people?” He fiddled with the knife from the place setting in front of him. 

JC deliberately ignored him and asked instead, “Did you ever tell Steve how you felt about him?”

Bucky looked up sharply. JC cocked his head and said, “Please, I’m not an idiot.”

Bucky dropped his eyes, suddenly feeling very exposed. “Yeah, he knew.” 

Swallowing hard, Bucky suddenly realized that he wanted to tell JC about them, he couldn’t even say why exactly but he needed someone else living to know.

“Before the war, when we were just two guys trying not to starve, he used to draw me sometimes in these sexy poses.” Bucky couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “I’d ham it up for him then, and he’d just laugh and scribble faster on whatever scrap of paper he was using. Then I’d have to shift around to keep my pants from tenting like a circus.” 

Bucky shook his head. “God, we were so young. One time, when I was teaching him how to box, I had to sit him down on a stool because his face was all bloody and I was trying to clean him up and he was just glaring at me because I’d stopped. Because he thought I thought he was soft or something, but then I just, I had to kiss him. And before I could freak out about what I’d done, he latched onto me like a limpet and it was the hottest kiss I’d ever experienced. I mean, I’d been with my share of girls by that time, and even a few guys, but this was like actual fireworks.”

“How old were you?”

“He was 16, I’d just turned 17.” Bucky paused, remembering felt good. “That was a big moment for me. I’d never really thought about what I wanted before, because there just weren’t a lot of choices back then. I figured I’d be like my dad, have a family.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, it’s just what you did. But then there was this scrappy little pipsqueak sitting in front of me, with a heart as big as the stars and suddenly I didn’t know which way was up anymore.” 

“That had to have been tough, back in that era?”

“Yeah, I mean you had to be careful. But where we grew up, it wasn’t so bad. We had fun, and we had each other.” 

Bucky could feel himself drifting back into the memories, until JC brought him back to the present. “So what happened yesterday?”

“I got shot. 

“You,” JC rubbed his forehead then covered his eyes with his hand. “Okay, and?”

“And I sent him a note, to see if, I mean I needed a place to crash and he was closest. Like I said I wasn’t really thinking clearly. But I snuck into his place and just sorta spaced out for a while. Then he got home, and he cleaned me up. Let me stay overnight.”

JC narrowed his eyes, trying to follow Bucky’s non-existent logic. “Okaaay, what did he say when you left?”

Bucky winced.

“Dude, no. Did you at least leave a note?”

Bucky dropped his head and groaned. “I already feel like shit about it, okay?”

JC let out a sigh, “Well at least your moral compass is working even if you didn’t pay much attention to it.”

Bucky put his head in his hands, knotting his finger in his hair and pulling. Then sat up straight and made a face. 

“Wait, did you…?” JC raised an enquiring eyebrow. 

“No, god. And I wasn’t in any shape for anything anyway. But man, it was still there. If I hadn’t been such a mess, I probably would have begged him to do me in that bathroom.” 

JC gave him a look Bucky didn’t need subtitles to interpret. 

“Christ,” Bucky groaned. He got out his phone and shot off a quick text to a number he knew by heart but had never used. He tried to stow the phone away quickly so he wouldn’t keep looking at it, but it vibrated before he got it anywhere near his pocket. 

Before he could change his mind, he shot off another text with an address attached.

JC, the asshole, beamed. 

There was no telling how long it would take Steve to show, so Bucky took his coffee to the booth that would let him monitor anyone’s approach, but he ended up hearing the familiar rumble of Steve’s bike before he saw him. 

While the bike was being safely stashed out of sight in the alley next door, Bucky held his breath until Steve appeared on the sidewalk. It was agony waiting for that moment of recognition. When it came, Steve didn’t exactly smile, but his eyes lit up in a way that made Bucky’s mouth go dry. 

JC had gone to the door and was unlocking it as Steve walked up and Steve blinked at him in surprise. Then Bucky saw him take in several details at once, including the closed sign and the empty diner. 

Steve offered his hand to JC, “Steve Rogers.”

JC returned the firm grip, and without hesitation answered, “Jin-soon Lee, friends call me JC.” 

Bucky tried to cover his shock at JC giving his full name, but he didn’t think he was successful. That wasn’t common knowledge, and it definitely wasn’t something JC would ordinarily share with someone that had Steve’s official ties. Then Steve’s eyes were on Bucky again and he froze.

He was vaguely aware of JC offering Steve something to drink and Steve sitting down across from him in the booth, but Bucky’s brain had clearly left the building. 

Steve eyed JC curiously when he came back with coffee and a mug and asked, “How do you and Bucky know each other?”

JC glanced at Bucky, probably saw what looked very much like a deer in headlights, and pulled up one of the chairs. “Let’s just say I got caught with my pants down after the whole SHIELD-Hydra thing hit the fan and we got into a situation where it was mutually beneficial to hang out for a couple of days.” 

JC had made sure his demeanor was light, despite the words. 

Steve’s face smiled in response, but his eyes didn’t. “Sorry about that.”

“No, man.” JC shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. What you and Romanov did had needed doing for a long time.”

Steve was still cautious. “You were SHIELD?”

JC made a see-saw motion with his hand. “At the end there, yeah. I started in the CIA, but it ended up not being quite what I imagined. After that I moved around, met a lot of good people in difficult situations. Now I’m officially a private citizen.”

Bucky’s eyes widened again, but Steve smiled. A real one this time. 

“That’s not an easy transition.” Steve nodded at the diner, “You work here now?”

JC smiled, “Well, I have an in with the owner. My gran. She has a habit of taking in strays.” He shot a meaningful look at Bucky, then asked Steve, “Are you hungry?”

Steve hesitated, then shrugged apologetically, “I’m always hungry.”

JC laughed, pointing his thumb at Bucky. “Same with this one. I’ll see what I have in the kitchen. ”

Bucky grabbed the pot JC had left on the table and topped up his coffee again so his hands would have something to do while he tried frantically to think of something to say. It had been so easy the night before, but then Bucky had been half delirious with blood loss at the time. 

“I didn’t hear you leave this morning.” Steve kept his voice low, intimate. Bucky’s toes curled. 

“Yeah sorry, I get nightmares sometimes. Waking up in an unfamiliar place kinda freaked me out.”

“It’s okay--” 

“No, it was a shitty thing to just leave like that. So I just, I wanted to let you know that I’m okay now.” Bucky forced himself to look up at Steve’s face, but his eyes were bright with a tenderness that nearly broke him. 

“And,” Bucky cleared his throat, “I know we didn’t talk about much last night, but I wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry. I’m not working for anyone. As I’m sure you know, there are still Hydra dregs to chase down, so I’ve been doing that mostly.” 

Steve nodded, but Bucky frowned because he seemed to deflate a little too. Then he said, “Is that why you’re here? In New York?”

 _Oh._ Bucky’s brain skidded.

This was the decision point he’d known was coming, but he hadn't thought he’d have to face it in the first five minutes of conversation. 

He could lie and say yes. Maybe promise to keep in touch even though they’d both know he didn’t mean it. Or he could tell the truth. 

Bucky stared at a snap on Steve’s leather jacket. “That’s how I got into trouble yesterday, but I’ve actually been in New York for a while.”

Steve looked up and Bucky met his eyes, but Steve’s expression was impossible to read. 

Bucky rushed in before Steve could say anything. “I came back because I wanted to see how you were, to make sure that you were okay. After,” Bucky swallowed hard. “After everything I did.”

“Buck, none of that was your fault. You didn’t--”

Bucky cut him off, he didn’t want Steve’s forgiveness. He needed Steve to understand this. “Yes, I did. I shot you. Several times.”

“But I’m OK. You easily could have killed me, but you didn’t.”

Bucky was incredulous. “Steve, I was absolutely trying to kill you that day on the bridge. I admit things got fuzzier once we got to the helicarriers, but on the bridge. I was in full mission mode.” 

“Maybe, but even on the bridge, as the fight went on, you weren’t going full tilt anymore. Believe me, I could tell. I was pretty certain you didn’t recognize me, but you weren’t fully committed to killing me by the end of it either.”

He honestly hadn’t expected Steve to argue with him about this.

“They were using you, Bucky.” 

“I know that.” Bucky could feel his face heat up, and tried to figure out how this conversation had gone so completely off the rails so fast. “I know that I was just a weapon to them, but it was still my body, my skills that pulled the trigger.”

“But that’s just it, I don’t think you do know what they had to…” Steve stopped himself, roughly pushing back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. When he spoke again he was calmer, but no less earnest. “Maybe we can table this discussion for when we have a little more privacy?”

They stared at each other like they were locked in a battle of wills. It was so achingly familiar to Bucky he wanted to cry, but it also sent a thrill through his system at the thought that maybe they could really see each other again. 

Bucky couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “God, you are a pain in the ass.”

Steve’s lips slowly curled into a satisfied grin, “And you love me for it.”

JC picked that moment to reappear with a tray loaded with food and Steve’s eyes lit up like it was Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one. 

JC set out three huge burgers with fries and all the fixings, then settled back in his chair and pinned Bucky with a look.

“So, about this trouble you ran into yesterday.” 

Bucky glanced at Steve, but all he did was raise an eyebrow expectantly and Bucky knew he was cooked. 

So he laid it all out for them, in between bites, and it was probably the best evening he’d spent in a very long time. 

Once he’d finished and all the food was gone - and JC had promised to do some digging - Bucky walked out into the cold night air with Steve.

When they got to the bike, Steve turned to him and said, “LIsten, why don't you come back to the apartment with me? We don’t have to talk about anything, we can just watch a movie or something.”

It was so tempting, but Bucky still hesitated. This felt like the start of something. Maybe even something good, but Bucky was still nervous. And he was afraid. The farther down this road he went, the more it was going to hurt when it all got taken away again.

But Steve was looking at him and he just couldn’t say no. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Steve’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened and he handed Bucky the helmet. Bucky climbed on the bike behind him, settling in against Steve’s back and wrapped his arms tight around Steve’s waist. The engine roared and Bucky closed his eyes. 

He decided he was going to enjoy every moment of this for as long as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inspiration for [JC](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/449585975309100642/)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to take a tiny hiatus for Thanksgiving, but posting will be completed by Saturday. <3

Steve felt the bed shift, but stayed still and tried not to let on that he was awake. From the little Bucky had told him about his nightmares, he wasn’t sure what he should do, so he waited. The previous morning, Steve hadn’t woken until he heard the door close, but this time Bucky didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. 

That tiny sense of hope prickled in his chest again, but before he could decide what to do, Bucky’s raspy voice whispered, “I know you’re awake. You don’t have to pretend.”

Steve turned on to his side and sat up, leaning against the pillow that Bucky had abandoned and letting the covers pool around his waist. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to Steve with his elbows on his knees. The light from the nearly full moon silvered the side of his face and his hair was sticking up in unruly tufts. He looked adorable and Steve wanted to pull him back into bed, smooth away the lines of strain he could see pulling at the corners of Bucky’s eyes and mouth. And for the first time in a long time, his fingers itched for his charchols. 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair trying to smooth it down. “I didn’t want to just leave this time.”

Steve nodded. There were so many things he wanted to say, _It’s okay. Whatever you need to do. Please stay._ He settled on, “Thank you.”

Bucky let out a quiet snort and shot him a look, but he knew that Bucky understood. “If you need to reach me for something…” Bucky’s voice trailed off. 

Steve smiled. “I’ve got your number. Until you ditch that burner, of course” Then he leaned in as close as he dared. “That goes both ways, you know. You don’t even have to get shot to stop by.”

Bucky gave him a sideways grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Once Bucky had gone, Steve found himself at loose ends. It was surprising but also not, if he thought about it at all, just how quickly they had fallen back into old, comfortable patterns and Steve missed him immediately. They hadn’t made any specific plans to meet again, but as Steve had watched Bucky heading down the street from his window, it had felt like an unspoken promise. 

Sam had texted him to meet him at the compound that afternoon, but his morning was still agonizingly open. Bucky’s friend, JC, was going to work on their Hydra problem, and there wasn’t anything Steve could do that wouldn’t rouse interest that he didn’t want to deal with just yet. 

He dialed a familiar number instead, and paced around his kitchen.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?”

Pepper sounded tired and Steve immediately felt guilty for bothering her. “It’s nothing important really, if you’re busy.”

“Don’t be silly, I could use the break actually. Is this about the PSA campaign?”

“Yes. I had some thoughts I wanted to run by you. I know your people already have everything planned out with the school board, but I was hoping we might still be able to make some adjustments, or maybe at least some additions?” Steve didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but the more he’d seen of the storyboard ideas they’d shown him, the more he’d wanted to run screaming from the room. 

“Of course, I didn’t get a chance to look at what they came up with but I got an earful from my assistant Tammy. She wasn’t sure what your thoughts were, since you two didn’t get a chance to talk after, but she was pretty horrified.” 

“It definitely wasn't what I had been envisioning. I get that there are certain things they want to focus on and criteria they need to follow, but I was hoping I could add some of my own ideas too.”

“Absolutely,” Pepper said, like it was already a done deal, “and I thought I’d already made that clear to them, but let me make some calls.” 

Instead of ending the call, she hesitated and added, “You know, now that I’ve got you, I wonder if I might get your opinion on something too?”

“Sure. I am at your disposal,” just talking with Pepper had lightened Steve’s mood.

“What do you know about Thaddeus Ross?”

Steve frowned. “I’ve met him, but I don’t really know him personally. He’s obviously very effective as a politician, though that’s not necessarily a good thing. And he has a lot of very powerful friends. If I can ask, what’s your interest in him?” Steve didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was setting off a series of alarm bells for someone like Pepper to ask after Ross.

“It might be nothing. I might just be overtired.”

“Pepper,” Steve went to his couch, opening the laptop to run a quick security search to see if Ross’s name popped up on any current alerts. “I’d trust your instincts as much as I trust my own, what’s going on?”

Apparently a lot was going on and Steve wished he had paid closer attention when Tony started rambling about - well, the stuff that Tony rambled about. He also marveled at how Pepper was able to manage not only her own responsibilities, but Tony’s as well. Steve told her as much but she just laughed and said, “I have a good team. I’d be completely lost without them.”

According to Pepper, Ross had been pestering Tony about a variety of things for quite some time. Normally Tony would brush him off and then make snide comments about him later to Pepper, but after the situation with Ultron, things had changed. Tony had started shutting her out and there started to be closed door meetings between him and Ross that would leave Tony moody and distant for days afterwards. 

And more recently Tony had started disappearing into his lab for hours at a time and not even telling Bruce what he was working on. 

Steve understood why she was concerned.

* * *

Steve had made sure to arrive at The Avengers Compound well before he was to meet Sam, because he wanted to check in with Natasha about Ross. Nat was his goto for all political gossip and if anyone had an instinct for corruption, it was her. 

Wanda informed him she and Clint were probably still in the locker room, and he could hear both of them talking quietly as he pushed through the door. He didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping on his friends, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible to avoid it and he registered what Clint was saying before he realized they were speaking low enough that they were trying not to be heard. 

“...he's still a wanted fugitive, we could get official help. Did you find anything out about that diner? I mean the amount of security around that place was weird, right?” 

“I made a few calls. I’m still waiting for--”

Steve came around the corner of the lockers and his face must have indicated clearly what he was feeling, because Clint immediately straightened up and took a step back while Natasha went still and blank, making a deliberate move to put herself between him and Clint.

Steve could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten as he bit back several pointed responses. Finally he asked, directing his question to Natasha, “You followed me last night?” 

At least she didn’t try to deny it. “Clint put a dermal tracker on you before you left the locker room.” Steve could have kicked himself, of course that’s all it would have taken and Clint was always so hands on with his friends that Steve hadn’t even noticed. 

Clint added, “They’re just short term, it would have washed off in the shower.” 

Steve ignored him and shot back at Natasha, “Who else knows?”

“No one.” At Steve’s doubtful look she added, “I swear, Steve. Just us and Sam. We were worried. When you got that text yesterday, it seemed like you...” she looked at Clint.

“Like there was a five alarm fire going off somewhere. I mean, dude, you don’t even get that excited about aliens.” 

Natasha continued, “But you didn’t say anything. And that wasn’t like you either. We wanted to--“

Steve didn’t want to hear it, “You could have just…” Steve was going to say, _asked me if something was wrong_ , but he knew himself well enough to know that wouldn't have gone over well with him either. Part of him understood their concern, but the other part… He got his phone and shot off a quick text, holding his breath while he waited to see if he would get a reply.

It came within seconds. Just a single word: _noted._

He’d had to tell Bucky they knew about him, that was non-negotiable, but his mind raced to think of what else he could do or say to mitigate the damage. But there really wasn’t anything. 

Suddenly Steve felt very cold.

“If we had asked you about it, would you have told us?” 

“I don’t know, maybe? Eventually? But it doesn't matter now because you both already decided not to trust me. Trust my judgement.” 

Nat was nodding in quick, jerky movement and Steve realized with surprise that she was rattled. “Okay, I’ll grant that some boundaries were breached, but in all honesty, Steve, sometimes you don’t ask for help when you should.” She looked at Clint again, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was for support or if there was something else, and he hated that that was immediately where his mind went. But she sounded more contrite when she said, “I can’t promise I’ll never do it again and we should talk about this, but now is probably not the best time.” 

Steve didn’t disagree, he’d have to keep reminding himself that they meant well, but the damage was done. If this cost him Bucky, he honestly didn’t know what he would do. It was one thing when it had been Bucky’s choice to stay away, but if concern from Steve’s friends sent Bucky back underground, that would just be too cruel. 

But then, Fate had never been known to treat him gently. 

* * *

Amber leaves fluttered around his feet as he left the main building and walked out towards the lake. He’d heard Sam coming into the locker room as he’d left, but he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet. 

He knew Sam had caught the tail end of the confrontation, because he’d heard him saying, “I thought you were going to wait and let me talk to him.” Then Natasha was speaking, but softly enough that Steve couldn’t hear what she said. 

The last thing Steve had heard was Sam replying, “By basically doing to him what Fury did?”

At least Sam got it, but that still didn’t help much with the current catastrophe. He knew they were only trying to help but he was just so goddamned angry.

He found a bench near the shoreline and stared out over the water as it sparkled in the crisp winter sun. 

Sam would see that his motorcycle was still in the lot, so he knew eventually Sam would find him, but it was almost 30 minutes before he heard Sam’s approach.

“So I guess training is out this afternoon.”

“Sorry.” 

Sam settled in next to him on the bench. “It’s cool.” Then after a pause, “You wanna talk yet, or are you still brooding?” 

Steve looked up at the sky, “Still brooding.” Sam leaned back and got comfortable and they stayed like that for a while. 

Steve’s phone pinged and he jerked it out of his pocket, but put it back after he saw the text. 

“Not the cyborg boyfriend?”

Steve shook his head, “Pepper. I called her earlier about the PSA stuff. You were right, by the way. She was just letting me know she has something in the works that’s closer to what I wanted to do.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “So that’s at least one thing going your way.” 

Steve stared at his hands, “I want him back, Sam. I need him back. Hydra has taken enough from us.” 

Sam regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then leaned forward on his elbows. “Okay, look. You know I’m not one for handing out rose-colored glasses, but he reached out to you, right? That was the mystery text yesterday?”

Steve nodded, realizing it was actually the second time Bucky had reached out to him.

“So he has your number and he’s used it. And it’s not like you’re hard to find. I don’t think a couple of nosy super friends are going to phase him at all. Hell, his contingencies probably have contingencies. Maybe he will bolt, I don’t know, but maybe don’t write him off just yet?”

Sam stood up and gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze, “Maybe he’s been missing you as much as you’ve been missing him.” 

* * *

The ride back from the compound was beautiful in all it’s autumn glory, but Steve wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. Sam was right, of course, but Steve’s mind was too busy cycling through scenarios and too many of them still ended with Bucky disappearing into a puff of smoke. 

At least he had plenty of things to occupy his mind once he got home. Between utilizing the few back channels he had that didn’t involve Natasha to send out feelers of his own about Ross, and getting his PSA project ready to go as soon as Pepper worked her magic, the afternoon passed productively if not exactly pleasantly.

When he finally thought he could eat something, he pushed back from the table and turned towards the kitchen, shifting instinctively into a defensive stance at the sight of a shadowy figure coming silently through his kitchen. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d hear me. You’ve got like five ways for me to get into this place unseen, so given your text, I took advantage.” 

Steve let out an embarrassing sound and lunged forward, pulling Bucky into a tight hug.

The moment he felt Bucky’s arms come up around him, returning the embrace, Steve was certain he knew what heaven felt like. 

Bucky rubbed Steve’s back in broad, soothing strokes. “Hey, you didn’t text me again so I thought we were cool?”

“No, it’s fine,” Steve mumbled, his face still buried in Bucky’s neck. “I just didn’t want to assume.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered. “I promise I won’t leave without making sure you have a way to reach me.” Tightening his hold, and with a note of doubt Steve didn’t like hearing, he added, “If they know about me though, am I going to be trouble for you? And be straight with me, I don’t want to mess up what you have here.”

Steve raised his head, ”What I have? No, shit Bucky, you don’t…” Searching Bucky’s eyes Steve's tenuous control finally deserted him and he pushed Bucky back hard against the refrigerator with a bruising kiss. Then every nerve ending in his body sparked at once as Bucky started kissing him back with an urgency that matched his own.

Bucky grabbed his ass and squeezed, pulling Steve tighter against him, and Steve’s already hyper-charged body reacted, rutting against Bucky’s hip like a goddamned horny teenager. He wasn’t even embarrassed when he came in his pants no more than a handful of seconds later.

Once he started, he couldn't stop kissing Bucky and was only barely aware when Bucky grunted, shifted his grip and lifted Steve like he weighed no more than he did back when they were kids, and carried him to the couch.

They landed in a heap on the cushions, a tangle of limbs getting rid of as much clothing as possible as quickly as they could. Once Bucky had him positioned where he wanted, on his back with Bucky straddling his waist, it was a familiar position and Steve’s body hummed with anticipation. Bucky’s movements slowed. He reached out with his flesh hand to run his thumb gently along Steve’s bottom lip and Steve darted his tongue out to meet it. A haunted look came into Bucky’s eyes and he stopped. 

“Buck, please…” Steve’s voice broke, there was no way he could convey what he was feeling with words. He reached out and took Bucky’s metal hand in his, bringing it to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the middle digit and caressed it with his tongue, sliding it in and out. Bucky just stared at him, eyes wide and heartbreakingly uncertain. 

Bucky’s hand was limp in Steve’s, the fingers moving only as Steve positioned them. He spread them wide then licked Bucky’s palm from the heel back to his middle finger, taking it in his mouth once again. He hadn’t known what to expect, how it would taste or feel, and there wasn’t any taste, but the tiny seams that wrapped each finger were so precise that he was only able to feel them with his tongue when they articulated. It was mesmerizing. 

Steve raised his eyes to Bucky’s again, and the uncertainty was still there but now there was also a banked heat. Steve’s body sang in response.

“What do you want, Buck. I’ll do anything.”

Bucky’s eyes dropped to his mouth, finally letting Steve see his need. 

Steve kissed Bucky’s metal palm again, “Anything you want, Buck.”

In the scramble to divest themselves of clothing, Steve had lost his shirt and Bucky’s jeans were already hanging off just one leg, his boots and his t-shirt landing somewhere across the room, so there was only a thin layer of fabric between Steve and Bucky’s cock. Steve kept his eyes on Bucky’s face, hooked his fingers into the waistband and ripped it like paper, tossing the ruined briefs back over his shoulder. 

Bucky snickered shyly and shook his head in disbelief. The haunted look was gone and Steve cupped his hands around Bucky’s ass, pulling him forward so Steve could take the tip of Bucky’s dick into his mouth. 

He licked over the head and felt Bucky shiver. Then slow and steady, he pulled Bucky closer and swallowed him down as far as he could. He kept him there, sucking around him, until slowly easing him back again, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s face. 

The connection between them felt electric, Steve started working him hard and nearly cried when Bucky unclenched his hands and leaned forward, bracing himself on the arm of the couch and took over the rhythm, leaving Steve’s hands free to wander. 

He pressed firmly into the hard planes of Bucky’s torso, but he could tell from the tension in the muscles that Bucky was trying to control his thrusts. Steve didn’t want control though, he wanted Bucky to use him and he urged Bucky with both his hands and his eyes to pump deeper and harder. 

The muscles in Bucky’s jaw twitched, but then his movements became more fluid and natural and he finally let go. He came with a quiet gasp, as Steve greedily swallowed every drop. 

After was pure bliss. Steve pulled Bucky down to capture his mouth and luxuriated in the feel of Bucky’s weight covering him, grounding him. Skin touching skin. 

He tried not to think about how close he’d been to losing this again. Place and time had never meant much to Steve, but Bucky held his center. No one else made him feel whole, feel like _Steve Rogers_ in the same way. 

He had known when he was sixteen that he was in love with Bucky Barnes and absolutely nothing had changed. They had a connection that even seventy years of separation couldn’t break and as Bucky nestled into Steve’s arms, running his fingers wonderingly through the dense hair on Steve’s chest, he allowed himself to hope that Bucky felt the same. 

They lay together for a long time, their heart rates and breathing synchronizing like an old married couple cliché. Steve was loath to break the quiet, but he had noticed that Bucky was sporting some new bruises in interesting places, so eventually he had to ask, “Did you do anything fun today while I was trying not to murder my friends?”

Bucky turned his head to bury it in Steve’s chest, so his reply was muffled, “Maybe?”

Bucky finally looked up, propping his head on his hand and regarding Steve with a thoughtful stare. 

Steve gazed back and waited. 

Finally Bucky said, “You know anything about Wakanda?”

It was the second unexpected question he’d received today, but he replied automatically, “Small country on the African continent. Mostly farming, animal based products.”

Bucky shifted slightly and ran his flesh hand up Steve’s arm, setting off a cascade of goosebumps, and he couldn’t tell if Bucky was trying to distract him, or if he was just having as much trouble as Steve keeping his hands to himself. “So you’d be surprised if they had access to some pretty crazy bio tech, or had an operative equipped with a weapon that made my arm look like a tinker toy?”

Steve thought for a moment, “Maybe not. There’s been talk here and there, but nothing’s ever been substantiated and it usually ends up sounding too far-fetched to be believed. There’s a guy in the CIA who seems to make it his business to quash any rumors that crop up. For a while there was a wild one going around that the son of the King was some kind of superbeing dressed as a panther. Which, given what I’ve seen since I woke up, maybe isn’t as ludicrous as it sounds. Do you think this operative could be a problem?”

“No, that’s not the sense that I get from her. I don’t think she’s a superpanther, but given the toys she had, I think she could kick both our asses and maybe even give Romanov a run for her money. But right now at least, our interests seem to be aligned.” Bucky ran his fingers through the hair on Steve’s chest again. “She hates Hydra as much as we do.” 

Bucky tucked his head back under Steve’s chin, which meant Steve couldn’t see his face when he added, “She already knew who I was, or she guessed because of the arm. And she had a pretty good idea of what my capabilities were with some very effective counters.”

“And that doesn't worry you?” Steve was genuinely surprised.

“Nah,” Steve felt Bucky grin against his chest, “I think I’ve just finally caused enough trouble for Hydra that I’m not quite as ghostly as I used to be. And I don’t have Hydra’s ice chamber to while away a decade in anymore so people can forget about me.” Bucky settled more comfortably under Steve’s arm, “I need to make some adjustments in how I operate now anyway, that’s just the way the game works. Adapt or die.” 

Because Steve knew Bucky had meant that literally, he forgave himself for blurting, “Or you could come in.” 

But when he registered Bucky stiffening at his words he rushed in to fill the silence. “Or I could go with you,” which, hearing the hopeful tone in his voice, really wasn’t any less awkward. So he made a semi-desperate grab for a joke, “We could change our appearance, get plastic surgery. Just slip away where no one would find us. Drink Piña Coladas on a beach somewhere.” And even that was only half a joke. 

Bucky chuckled and relaxed, and Steve started breathing again. “You’d never survive that. First time you saw someone pushing somebody else around, you’d give us both away. And I’d never be able to stop myself from covering your six. Besides, we don’t know if the serum would even let plastic surgery take.” 

Steve grinned, “Maybe, but it will let me grow a beard. Maybe you could grow one too.” 

“Nah, I’d probably just cut my hair. Maybe dye it blon--”

“Noooo, don’t you dare. And I’m appreciating having something to hold onto,” he said as he grabbed a handful and gave it a gentle tug. And then they were both giggling and Steve thought of how cool it would be if Tony or someone figured out a way to stop time. 

Eventually they had to move, even though neither of them really wanted to, and Steve blessed his forethought in shower design again, as together they used every inch of it in varied and creative ways for a good chunk of the afternoon. 

Once they were settled back on the couch, with Bucky looking invitingly domestic in more of Steve’s clothing, Steve turned on the tv. It was the kind of thing Steve had dreamed about, having his head in Bucky’s lap, Bucky’s fingers twining through his hair. No expectations other than to just be with each other. 

They might have even spent the whole night that way, but as peaceful as Steve felt, he began to notice an increase of tension in Bucky’s body. 

After the movie was finished and they’d switched to a cooking show, Bucky’s unease had leached into him as well. So he sat up, matching Bucky’s slouch against the cushions with his shoulder pressed solidly into Bucky’s metal one. There was a crease between Bucky’s eyebrows that Steve did not like the look of, especially when Bucky took his hand and interlaced their fingers. 

“I meant what I said, you know. About not messing this up for you.”

“I know.” Steve kept his voice low and soft, “But that’s really not an issue.”

“But it is an issue, Steve.” Bucky was insistent, “Half my time now is spent figuring out how to avoid or disable facial recognition cameras just to get groceries.”

Steve understood what he meant, but he just couldn’t care about that. Bucky obviously didn’t realize it yet, but Steve was absolutely prepared to leave with him if that’s what it took. 

“Okay, so if you follow that logic then it’s dumb for you to even be here in the city, and yet here you are.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but stopped and dropped his eyes to their interlaced fingers. The muscles in his jaw spasmed and Steve hated how defeated he suddenly looked. 

Steve reached up gently and placed a finger under Bucky’s chin, turning him so Steve could meet his eyes, “Because you’re still covering my six?” Steve lightly touched his lips to Bucky’s. “Maybe we could give some serious consideration to the Piña Coladas.”

Steve had hoped that would get him a smile, but it had the opposite effect, and he saw the tension sweep through Bucky’s body like a wave. 

“Steve, please,” Bucky closed his eyes, “You can’t… Steve, you’re Captain _Ameri--_ ”

“No,” Steve said firmly, a spark of fear starting to tingle along his spine and he shifted his hand to cup Bucky’s jaw, “I’m Steve _Rogers_ , and you know better than…” 

“No!” Bucky all but shouted, jerking out of Steve’s grasp . “You don’t get it. _I’m_ a mess. I killed people. I killed a _lot_ of people. You don’t get to walk away from that. I’m just trying--” He broke off, desperate not to cry, and Steve’s throat closed up too, holding back his own tears. 

When Bucky was able to continue, the words sounded suspiciously rehearsed, “The Winter Soldier would be even more dangerous for Steve Rogers, serum or no serum. I’d only get you killed.” Bucky raised his eyes slowly, meeting Steve’s. The agony reflected in them hitting Steve like a physical punch. “How could you want that?”

All Steve could do was stare at him in disbelief, then he quoted, “... _and if I died in your arms I’d die happy_. Do you remember that? Do you remember when you said that to me?”

Bucky didn’t move, but silent tears started welling up in his eyes. “You bastard,” he whispered.

Steve pleaded, “How can you think I would feel any differently about us than you?”

Bucky sniffed and coughed and wiped at his face, trying to gain back some control, “Look, I just want to try and fix some of the things that I helped break, but as nice as it would be, I’m not safe for you to be around for more than the occasional fuck. It’s taken a while, and the serum has fixed a lot of the damage they did to my brain, but there’s no way to tell whether I might just go off someday and I don’t want you to get caught in the blast radius if I do.”

“God, Bucky. That’s literally the last thing I’m worried about.” Steve wanted to shout his anger at how unfair everything about this was, but his frustration wasn’t something Bucky should have to carry. “I know about the ops the Winter Soldier went on, though I obviously can’t know what you’re feeling about it. But you’ve got to know, serum or not, you’re clearly dealing with PTSD issues, and none of that is your fault. And you aren’t responsible for anything that they made you do.” Steve turned his body to face Bucky head on, “And I am going to make it my mission to keep repeating that to you for the rest of our lives if necessary, if that’s what it takes to convince you.” 

Steve went to his desk and took out several thick manila folders from the bottom drawer, then set them down on the coffee table across from Bucky. 

“Right after you disappeared, Sam and I found out a lot about the Winter Soldier program as we searched for you, so I know...” Steve paused and pressed his lips together, trying to push back the remembered rage so he could talk, “...a lot of what they did to you. And I know how they did it.” He didn’t add the, _in horrific detail_ part. “So what I _know_ from that is that you were so fucking stubborn that after awhile the only thing that worked was when they figured out that they had to trick you into thinking you were helping people in order to get you to do their ops for them.” 

Bucky’s hands lay limply in his lap and Steve took hold of the metal one again. “Because even after the memory wipes and the electric shocks, and the chemicals they pumped into you that even Bruce hasn’t been able to identify, they still couldn’t override your conscience. So what I need you to understand is that they literally stripped away your entire sense of self, but they still couldn’t take away your integrity. _That’s_ what I know. So yes, that is exactly what I want. In any way that you’ll let me.” 

Steve leaned in, taking Bucky’s face in firm hands. “Every single solitary piece of you, broken or whole, with every fiber of my being.” Then set about showing him with the urgency of lips and tongue and just a raw force of will, how very serious he was about that. 

Eventually he sat back, smoothing the hair away from Bucky’s eyes. Then with one last caress, he left him on the couch with the files in front of him within easy reach, so he could look at them or not as he chose.

Steve headed for the kitchen to give him some space and when he looked back, Bucky had the files open, studying one of the pages. His hands were shaking, but his voice was steady when he asked, “How did you get all this?”

Steve continued pulling leftovers out of the fridge for a makeshift buffet and said, “Natasha got us the first file, and then Sam and I followed the breadcrumbs. This was just after the data dump, so we were able to mine some of it from that, which gave us other leads, other people who had been involved in the various programs over the years. Or other places where files were kept. They documented literally everything so there was a lot of combing through dusty storage facilities that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades.” 

Steve put the plate of food he’d put together for Bucky on the table next to the open files and took the chair across from him, “Once we realized you were going after the chairs, we tried to get as much as we could about those to see if we could get ahead of you, but you always got there first and you never left us anything to follow.” 

Bucky looked up at him, “I didn’t want them to have an easy way to wipe me again.”

Bucky’s eyes were bright; it reminded Steve of how he used to look, deep in tactical discussions about taking out the next Hydra base back in the war. It gave him an almost predatory spark that Steve had always found sexy as hell.

“Will you stay tonight?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, but he made no other move. The silence stretched until Steve started to feel it in his gut, but then Bucky tilted his head a fraction and nodded before going back to the files.

Steve scratched his belly to keep from doubling over in relief, and started thinking about logistics. He didn’t want to make assumptions, but the way they’d spent most of the afternoon created some expectations. 

In the end, though, even that turned out to be a non issue. Once Bucky had taken a break from the files and Steve had finally been able to get some food into him, he looked beat. 

Steve sat down next to him on the couch and asked, “If you’re through with those for now, how about if we head upstairs?”

Bucky scrubbed his face with his hands, “Yeah, okay. Do you mind if we just sleep? I’m not feeling entirely coherent right now.”

“Of course,” Steve said, standing up and offering his hand. Bucky took it, pulling himself up, and then stepped in close to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve wrapped him in a hug and they swayed together like they used to when they’d had the luxury of private quarters. 

“C’mon, you need sleep,” Steve said finally, and ushered Bucky towards the stairs.

They undressed together in silence, Bucky nestling into his arms again once they’d crawled under the covers. Bucky splayed his flesh hand over Steve’s abdomen, moving his thumb across the skin until he found the barely there divot where the last bullet Bucky had shot at him had passed through his body more than a year ago. 

Steve placed his hand over Bucky’s. “It’s part of our history, Buck. We both have scars. But scars are about healing; a reminder of our resilience.” 

Bucky didn’t reply, but he leaned down to place a tender kiss on Steve’s belly. 

Steve just held him tighter.


	5. Chapter 4

Bucky let his head fall against the back of the chair and studied the moon through the skylight. Steve snuffled in his sleep and curled up into a tight ball, burying his face in his pillow. He had done that when he was a kid too, and for a moment Bucky had to concentrate to remember what decade it was. 

Bucky had finally been awake long enough that his heart rate had returned to normal, but he still felt clammy in his damp t-shirt. He reached over and grabbed a fresh one off the pile Steve hadn’t put away yet and headed downstairs. 

With everything that had happened in the last few days, it was hard getting his mind to stop racing, so he set about exploring the parts of Steve’s apartment that he hadn’t seen yet. This was usually the time of night when he’d go out prowling, but it surprised him to realize that he had no urge to leave. 

He could see the Steve he grew up with in random details: from the elegance of the pre-war architecture to the tiny collection of old tin toys tucked behind a box of Quaker Oatmeal in the kitchen.

The place was bigger than it had initially looked, with alcoves and niches built into the old brick holding an eclectic mix of old and new furnishings. Much of it was tucked away in areas that were clearly not part of the public space, and Bucky wondered who got to see that side of Steve. 

When he’d received Steve’s text that his friends knew about him, the only thing Bucky had considered was changing his base location, but Steve had obviously thought something else. Bucky still couldn’t get the sight of Steve’s face out of his mind. It had even featured in tonight’s nightmare, as Steve’s fear became his, with the specter of a faceless Captain American looming over his shoulder.

Captain America hadn’t appeared in Bucky’s nightmares since the early days after his escape. Even when he'd come back to the city and he’d wake up with the image of his hands dripping red sharp in his mind, it was usually the Howlies that stood by with their faces twisted in disgust. 

But tonight, every one of them had morphed into the Captain, his scowling face half hidden with the familiar cowl, until Bucky felt like he was dying, starving for air as his essence dissolved into nothing. 

That’s when he’d awakened, shivering with a chill that seeped into him so deeply that even a human-shaped furnace snuggled up to his back couldn’t stop it. 

Steve had been clutching him in his sleep and it had comforted and centered him, but the near death grip Steve had on him also made him wonder. He hadn’t considered how much Steve might need that comfort from him too. 

Bucky turned another corner of the apartment and suddenly he was in a chaotic mess, completely different from the orderliness in the rest of the space. Delight widened his eyes, this was the Steve he remembered from when all they’d had to worry about was where to get enough cash to keep Mr. Simpson from disconnecting their hot water.

It was set up as an artist’s studio, with windows that stretched to the ceiling and then angled into skylights. The view would be spectacular when the sun was out, but it had started to rain again, softening the lights of the city into a gauzy mass of color. 

What had originally seemed like clutter was still fairly organized. Paints and brushes and canvases in one area, pencils, pens and notebooks in another. Bucky picked up one of the notebooks, but most of the pages were blank. 

He went to the desk that was set up in the corner, with an envious glance at its state-of-the-art monitor, and started poking around. He resisted snooping on the computer itself, but there were more notebooks. One was full of notes and drawings for a product advertisement, and another, larger notebook had sketches of rabbits in various styles of clothing, with a folded copy of an email to someone named Samuel Goodwin holding its place. 

On a whim Bucky picked up a pen and drew a few stick figures having a conversation on one of the pages, then closed the book and put it back on top of the pile. 

There were several half started canvases of landscapes and cityscapes leaning against one wall. They were beautiful even in their incomplete state, but the layers of dust suggested they hadn’t been touched in awhile.

There was another group leaning in a corner. The colors were darker, moodier, and Bucky felt them drawing him in even from across the room. 

As he got closer, he could see the sharper lines, the harsher compositions. There was such a raw passion in them, pain, fear.

He knew this Steve too, the one that had snapped angry words at Bucky when he’d struggled to breathe in summer air that had become so thick you could swear you were bathing in it, and the one that had finally allowed himself to weep in Bucky’s arms after his mother had died. And the one that would vibrate with rage whenever he saw powerful people callously abusing their privilege and causing harm without a second thought.

This was his Steve. People might know about those things from history books, but Bucky had lived them with him.

Bucky ran his fingers over the rough paint. Steve was right, they both had their scars. But they were both still here too. And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt hope.

After rummaging through a few other piles of pads and loose papers, and leaving a few more surprises, he had rolled the chair around and was drawing another stick figure scene on the corner of the whiteboard when he got caught. 

Steve eyed him from the doorway with one sleepy eyebrow raised and Bucky had to stifle a gasp at the sight of him. It didn’t seem to matter how often he saw him, or in what circumstances, if Steve was six foot two, or five foot four, the tingling in Bucky’s chest and the butterflies in his stomach were always the same. 

This version wore only a pair of boxers that looked so well-worn, they probably should have been relegated to the rag bag. But the dim light etched the rest of him in exquisite detail. Every muscle sculpted, every ripple of movement flowing with unconscious precision and grace. He was like one of the old gods Bucky had loved reading about when he was a kid, stepping out of an enchanted forest. 

Steve grabbed a stool that had been tucked under the drafting table, and scooted up behind Bucky, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. He grabbed another marker and quickly added a few lines to Bucky’s doodles, and suddenly they looked like actual people. 

Neither of them spoke. Steve brushed his long hair aside and placed kisses along the back of Bucky’s neck, and Bucky’s head dropped forward, eyes closing. Steve got both hands on him then, slowly pressing his thumbs deeply into the muscles of his shoulders. 

Bucky felt himself relax in stages as Steve worked his back and shoulders. With his eyes closed, memories stirred, snatches of images from a third floor walk-up in Brooklyn, a compact and semi-private officer’s tent, even a helicarrier slowly falling apart around them as he lost consciousness. 

The warmth from Steve’s hands seemed to spread through him, like what he imagined coming home after a quest would feel like if he’d ever had a chance to live that kind of storybook ending. He thought he’d lost the ability to feel contentment, but that was exactly what Steve felt like. 

As arms slowly wrapped around him, Steve nipped gently at the nape of his neck, then laved the skin with his tongue, satisfied to just taste him. 

Too soon, they both heard Bucky’s phone vibrate out on the kitchen counter. It had stopped raining and light was starting to filter in through the windows. Steve paused in his efforts at sucking a mark onto Bucky’s collarbone and sighed, resting his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky reached up to lightly scratch along Steve’s scalp, then with a resigned sigh of his own he said, “Back to work.”

* * *

The message had been from JC telling Bucky he’d found something that might prove interesting. Bucky sat on the kitchen counter munching on bacon and waiting for the toast to pop as Steve finished the eggs. Steve had put clothes on, but that didn’t stop the muscles in his back from putting on a show for Bucky’s enjoyment. Who knew scrambling eggs was such a workout? 

Pepper had also called while Steve was flipping bacon. He had put her on speaker so Bucky could listen too as she told him she’d been able to get the okay for one of the PSA ideas that Steve was hoping for, and that the Metropolitan Museum of Art was more than happy to accommodate their production crew that afternoon. 

She made a point of saying she didn’t even have to call in any favors, because the Museum was thrilled to give Steve Rogers any assistance he required. Steve’s cheeks were pink even after the call had ended and he said to Bucky in a voice that was an adorable mix of embarrassment and delight, “Huh, I guess maybe I am kind of a big deal.”

“Celebrity can have its perks,” Bucky said, and then in a grave voice he added, “Just remember, with great power comes great responsibility.” But he couldn’t keep a straight face even through his own joke and sputtered through the last of it. Steve threw a dish towel at him. 

As they sat down at the table with their eggs, Bucky remembered the pile of email printouts of jobs for artists. He took a bite of toast and casually asked, “So Samuel Goodwin, huh? That’s actually a pretty good alias. Who came up with it, because it definitely wasn’t you.”

Bucky stifled a grin at Steve’s offended look. “It was Tony’s idea. He also helped me with setting up the accounts and faking some history and background for me to use, so I wouldn’t have to deal with people who just wanted to talk to Captain America, rather than hiring an actual artist.”

“What name were you going to use?”

Steve didn’t answer, just rolled his eyes.

Bucky smiled, “Let me guess, you were going to use Grant Stephens.”

“No.” Steve took a bite of his eggs, “I was going to use Roger Grant.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened, “Of course you were.” 

“Anyway, I haven’t really had a chance to use it much.” 

“How come?”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just hard getting my head to focus on it.” Steve gave him a pointed look, “I needed my muse.”

Bucky blushed and went back to his toast.

Once the last dish had been loaded in the dishwasher, and Bucky had put the butter and jam back in the fridge, Steve came up behind him, his hand lingering on Bucky's ass. Bucky turned and pulled him in, planting a soft kiss on lips that still tasted a little like strawberries. 

Steve leaned down, touching his forehead to Bucky’s.

“I’ve gotta get going.” 

“It’s cool. I gotta go feed the cat.”

Even that close up, Bucky could see the puzzled look come into Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I gotta go check in with JC.”

Steve leaned back and regarded Bucky thoughtfully. “Maybe you can check on something for me too?”

“Sure.”

“See if JC has ever heard anything about Thaddeus Ross that smells hinky?”

“In relation to anything specific?”

“No, well… I don’t know. Maybe? It just seems really coincidental that he’s stepping up his pursuit of Tony, at the same time as your break-in the other night. Especially knowing his history with Bruce and supersoldiers. It definitely seems like there are some overlapping interests there and I’m just not crazy about a coincidence like this. And also it’s a favor for Pepper.”

Bucky nodded. It did seem like there could be something there, and Bucky had learned a long time ago to trust Steve’s hunches. 

* * *

Bucky hadn’t quite reached the diner when his phone vibrated. 

“You were right, I just had an interesting encounter with a friend of your friend.” 

Bucky made a face. “And?”

“She’d like a sit down, if you’re so inclined.”

Bucky had expected that, but maybe not quite this soon. He would have liked to have talked to Steve about it first. 

“Specifics?”

“I’ll text you the details. You might want to activate that beacon I gave you, just in case.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

Once he hung up with JC, he called Steve’s number. It went straight to voicemail, which wasn’t surprising given where he was, but whatever message he left would need to keep Steve from dropping everything and coming after him. 

_“Hey, so Natasha reached out. We probably should have talked about this, but we didn’t so I just wanted to let you know that I’m going meet her. I’m not telling you not to worry, but I am asking you not to do anything. JC knows about it too and I’ll be in touch after.”_

* * *

As spy clichés went, this one was spot on: dark, damp parking garage under an abandoned office building. 

“Thanks for coming,” she said. Like they were sitting down in a fancy conference room somewhere.

“Thanks for not bringing the authorities down on my head.”

“I wouldn’t have done that to Steve.”

He actually believed that. “You wanted something?”

“I don’t know why you’re here.” She made it a statement, and there was no inflection in her voice. 

“Is that really your business?”

“Maybe not, but Steve is my friend.” There was the first hint of emotion. “I don’t want to see him hurt.”

The obvious reply was to say _I won’t hurt him_ , but Bucky knew he couldn’t say that because there were so many ways that he could hurt Steve even though he’d do anything not to. “I don’t either.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him and the silence stretched until it became unnerving. “Are you planning to stay?”

Like he had planned any of this. “I’m playing it by ear.” 

“He wants you to stay.” Bucky felt her eyes practically boring into him. “I think he needs you to. Do you want to?”

There was only one answer. “Yes”.

“Okay.” Then she turned and disappeared into the shadows. 

* * *

Bucky spoke quietly into his phone as he threaded his way through the maze of sidewalk vendors. “What the fuck does _okay_ mean?” 

JC just laughed at him. “I don’t know man, but if her intent was to try to scare you off, I don’t think she would have been subtle about it.” 

“True.” Bucky agreed, in fact her main concern seemed to be Steve, which Bucky couldn’t fault her for. “Okay, I’m here. I’ll check in with you after.”

Bucky turned off the sidewalk and headed into the quiet park, making his way towards a secluded bench where a woman sat waiting. 

The Wakandan operative he’d encountered when he’d been sniffing around the startup company had reached out. She had identified herself, and then told him her name was Nakia and that she had information on their mutual problem. There was no way that Bucky was going to pass that up. 

She smiled when she saw him, and as soon as he joined her on the bench she touched a button on a small device and all sound around them ceased.

“How are your ribs?”

Bucky smiled, “Good as new.”

“I am glad. Our lead scientist is very curious about how your serum works, but that is not why I have asked you here.”

Bucky waited for her to continue. 

“We have been instructed to withdraw our exhibit from the conference and return home to Wakanda. Our King has decided that the world is not yet ready for us to step into the light and he has rescinded his approval of our project.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky could tell that was a blow.

She smiled a little wistfully, “We will keep trying. Maybe someday the world will be ready. But in the meantime, I have something for you.” 

She handed him a data stick and said, “It is very likely that our technology would be in the hands of Hydra right now if you had not intervened, so to offer our thanks I have been authorized to give you this information on a man named Thaddeus Ross. He has been financing the cell you were tracking. Hopefully there will be information here that will aid you in your mission.” 

Bucky’s heart raced. Sometimes the stars aligned and they were on your side. “Thank you.”

She gave him a steady look. “This is a dangerous man. It would be in everyone’s best interests if he were no longer able to cause harm.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Why do I get the feeling there’s more you’re not saying.” 

Nakia shrugged apologetically, “I’m telling you what I can. I believe our interests align, but we must still be careful. I’m trusting you as much as you are trusting me. It makes us both vulnerable, but if we’ve made the right decision, it also makes us both stronger.”

She hesitated then said, “There is one other thing. Developing an interface between organic and inorganic is very complex and there is not just one viable approach. There was another team that was working on similar technology to ours. They weren’t ready to present to the conference, and their solutions are not as elegant as ours, but they have potential. They could be an attractive secondary target. And they are local, their facility is just outside the city of White Plains. It might be worth keeping an eye on them.”

“I will. Thank you. And I appreciate your trust.”

She smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand, “Now I must go. Be well.”

As she walked away, Bucky felt certain this would not be the last time they would work together. 

* * *

After his meeting with Natasha, Bucky had sent Steve a text - and received a heart emoji in return - so technically, there wasn’t any reason for Bucky to go to the museum, but he did it anyway. 

The camera crew had set up in an out of the way alcove that left Steve free to move around among the art pieces on display and Bucky, along with a few other curious onlookers, found a perch that allowed him to observe Steve from above. 

Steve looked stunning. 

In fact he looked like he belonged in a magazine with his soft blue sweater, deliciously cut jeans and leather boots. The beard had filled in, prompting a sense memory for Bucky of rubbing his own face against it like a cat, but more than anything, Bucky wanted to taste him again. 

Apparently there had been a script, but Steve was always best when he spoke from his heart, and Bucky marveled at how open Steve was being. He talked about how art had touched his own life, both as a positive force in tough times and how it had helped him deal with personal pain and trauma. He practically glowed when he explained the countless ways that art and artists enhanced everyone's lives. 

Bucky could have happily stood and listened to him all day, but he knew Steve had seen him by the furtive glances he kept making in Bucky’s direction every time he went for his water bottle. So Bucky waited until they called a break and then casually descended the stairs. 

He drifted towards a hallway, knowing Steve was behind him, and found a row of nondescript doors labeled “Maintenance”. The flimsy lock on the one that also said “Storage” was easily bypassed and he waited inside the darkened room. 

Steve was only a few seconds behind him and as soon as Steve pushed open the door and leaned in, Bucky pulled, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. 

“What did...hnnngngn” Steve lost his ability to make words as soon as Bucky sucked hard at the point between Steve’s jaw and his ear. Bucky knew what Steve was worried about, but he didn't want him thinking about anything right now. 

He paused briefly to say, “Everything is fine.” Then went back to Steve’s neck and was immediately rewarded with a full body shiver. 

That wasn’t the prize he was after, though, so he dropped to his knees instead and got down to business. 

“Buck, you don’t have to…” 

Bucky didn’t let him finish that sentence either, he’d had a lot of practice at getting Steve off without messing him up back in the war, and he was able to turn Steve’s token protest into a combination of a squeak and a groan as soon as he got his mouth on him. Then the rhythm caught them both; Steve gently started to pump into his mouth, and Bucky lost himself completely in the sheer pleasure of it.

Bucky purred around him when Steve grabbed his hair, his scalp tingling at the touch. And in reply, Steve’s breathing started to come in short gasps. They were on the clock, so Bucky didn’t linger as much as he would have liked, and it wasn’t long before the subtle cues of Steve’s body were telling him Steve was close. 

Steve’s body tensed as he tried to be quiet, but he still released a long groan that Bucky felt in his chest as Steve reached his release. Bucky swallowed around him as Steve emptied into him, then gently palmed his softening dick before putting him back in his pants and zipping him up, making sure to check that Steve looked as pristine as he did when he first came in. Bucky straightened up, pressing his body against Steve’s and regarded him with a smug smile. 

“God, that brought back memories.” Steve’s voice was husky. He cupped Bucky’s face and gave him a sultry smirk in return, as he leaned back against the door, letting it take his weight while his legs recovered. 

“Mmmm, yes it did.” Bucky stepped in closer, reaching a hand under Steve’s sweater to touch skin and inhaled deeply. The scent of them together was always intoxicating to him. 

Steve’s eyes were still half-lidded and he closed them fully as he took a handful of Bucky’s hair again and held him in place while he licked into his mouth like he was trying to devour him. They probably only had five more minutes, but they were going to be five minutes very well spent. 


	6. Chapter 5

Steve woke to the sound of gentle, rhythmic puffs of breath and smiled. Bucky was still asleep in his arms and he luxuriated in the feel of Bucky pressed back against his chest.

The night before had been a flurry of phone calls and texts and emails and strategizing across multiple time zones, but by the small hours, they finally had a nearly complete picture. And the upshot was: Thaddeus Ross was an evil bastard. 

He was also rich and extremely well connected, however, so he wasn’t going to be easy to take down. The timing was going to be tricky, but regardless of what happened with Ross, it had also become increasingly clear that he was deliberately and callously using Tony - using his fear and the guilt he felt, and Tony’s near obsessive drive to protect the people he loved. Not unlike how Bucky had been used. And that had to stop. 

Too soon, Steve heard Bucky’s breathing change, and he buried his nose in the long strands of Bucky’s hair pressing a kiss behind his ear. “Sorry if I woke you.”

Bucky stretched languidly, then pulled Steve’s arms tighter. around him “S’ok, it’s nice to wake up and feel comfortable for once.” The sleepy contented purr in his voice made Steve’s dick begin to stiffen with interest, and just like the little shit that he was, Bucky seized that opportunity to rub his naked ass against Steve’s equally naked groin. 

Steve groaned, “You’re a menace.”

Bucky wiggled his ass again, slotting Steve’s now eagerly growing erection between his cheeks and replied smugly, “Pfft, you know you want to.”

Steve didn’t have to be told twice. The lube was still within easy reach and it wasn’t long before he was sliding back into the most glorious heat with long, slow strokes. 

Bucky gasped as Steve nudged one leg up with his knee, changing the angle but still keeping the pace slow and steady. Bucky took his hand then, and using their interlaced fingers grabbed his own hard length, stroking himself with the same rhythm. 

Steve was torn between wanting to stay in this moment or chasing the rising need they were both feeling, but eventually it was no longer a choice. The sound of their racing heartbeats pounding in near unison filled his ears as his release crashed over him, enveloping him. Bucky’s needy gasps reached a crescendo right after him as Bucky’s creamy cum coated their intertwined fingers. 

The fire between them slowly receded back to a warm glow. Then Bucky raised Steve’s hand to his lips and held them there for a moment before saying softly, “We gotta get ready.”

* * *

Steve knew from Pepper that Tony would be at an offsite lab that he’d set up that wasn’t part of any of his other facilities. Steve and Bucky had discussed at length whether Bucky should accompany Steve or not, but Bucky was determined to be there. 

“If he doesn’t let me in, I’ll find a way in.”

Steve gave him a grim smile, just as the door lock clicked and popped open. “I guess we’re in.”

The door opened directly into a huge, high-ceilinged warehouse space. Tony was sitting at a large work table close to the center of the room, surrounded by an array of equipment that looked to be equal parts medical lab and machine shop. 

Steve walked towards him, with Bucky trailing behind.

“We need to talk to you about Ross.”

“Funny, he said you’d be coming. He also said you were harboring a wanted fugitive.” Tony raised an eyebrow at Bucky.

Steve didn’t see any point in wasting time, “Did he also tell you he’s trying to restart the supersoldier program?”

“That’s not what he’s doing. You want something to drink? No?” Tony moved towards a lounge area and poured himself a double, then sat down on the couch. “We’ve been working on a program to help vets who’ve lost limbs. Trying to up our prosthetics game. I’m more of an AI guy, not really a bio guy, but I’m learning.”

“What does Bruce think of that?” Steve already knew the answer, but he needed to get Tony thinking. 

Tony hesitated, but only slightly. “This is more brain interface stuff, not really Bruce’s area.”

“That sounds like Ross talking.”

“He did want to keep things quiet until we were ready. I told him he didn’t need to worry about Bruce, but he thought it was better to leave Bruce out because of their history. He thought it might get in the way of the work.”

“And that didn’t tell you something?” Steve didn’t try to hide his frustration. 

Tony looked guilty, then angry then went into what Steve recognized as deflecting tactics. “You really don’t like me very much, do you?”

“That’s not true, Tony, and you know it. We may not see eye to eye on everything, but I know our goals are the same. But Tony, this isn’t the way. Ross isn’t the way. I know the situation with Ultron rattled you, but you have to see--” 

“It’s just a prosthetics program.“

“You’re not stupid, Tony. I know you don’t believe that.” 

Tony tossed back what was left in his glass and set it down carefully on the table. “Okay, what if I don’t. But what if this is something we need. I have freely and repeatedly admitted that I messed up a bit with Ultron, but the theory was sound. We need a security force that can fight fucking aliens. And that’s exactly what Ross has in mind. And he totally gets large scale operations like this.” 

“Like Project Insight?”

The words hung in the air.

“No.” Tony stirred. “This isn’t anything like that. This is totally different.” 

“No, Tony. It isn’t. It’s exactly like that. It’s just supersoldiers instead of helicarriers.” Steve’s anger was rising. “When do your precautions become oppression? Ross isn’t interested in what’s fair or right, he just wants power. Maybe you don’t see it because you don’t realize yet that you have anything to fear from him.” 

Steve looked around at the sprawling, state of the art facility Tony had created, it was basically his version of a one car garage. “You’re also the only one of us who can literally buy an island and never have to deal with the fallout if things don’t happen the way you expect, the rest of us can’t. Believe me, I’ve lived through what happens when people don’t pay attention, more than once.” Steve knew he was getting too worked up, but the desperation he felt trying to get that last data card installed on the helicarrier was never far from his mind. 

Tony glared at him from the couch. “That is not what we’re doing. You know as well as I do that there’s threats out there, things we don’t know about yet. That’s not in question. It would be stupid not to prepare for that.” 

“And we are. We will, but we’ll do that by building a stronger team.”

Tony looked at him indulgently, “Your training sessions are cute, Cap, but a handful of us against an army? What if I’m not there to shoot a nuclear weapon up some Chitauri’s ass next time.”

“We don’t need you as a savior, Tony. We need you as a teammate.” 

That seemed to strike a chord and Steve tried to press his advantage. “Maybe we will come up against something like that again in the future, but if we do, we’ll meet it just like we did before: together. We can’t allow fear of the future to take away our present.” 

“Ross isn’t operating from fear, he just wants to build a resource we can use. We just need to take precautions, in case--”

Hearing soldiers - people - referred to as a resource hit Steve in the gut. “Ross is Hydra, Tony. Just like Pierce was.” It wasn't exactly the way he’d envisioned telling him, but the words were out. 

All the color drained from Tony’s face.

“Fury learned the hard way about trusting the wrong people. You don’t have to make the same mistake. We can fix this now. It’s not too late, but we need your help.” 

“You have proof?”

Steve held up the data stick. He could see Tony’s mind spinning, re-evaluating. 

“Wow. Okay, so what if I’m the one that goes off the rails again, who’s going to stop me?”

Steve could see he was asking a serious question. “I will. Your friends will. You’re not alone. Talk to Pepper. Really talk to her. And talk to Rhodey.” 

“Yeah, he never really liked Ross much.”

“They both love you, Tony. Without reservation. And they will tell you straight when you’re being an asshole. Or when you’re becoming dangerous. But you need to do your part too and you need to listen. You don’t have to agree, but you have to listen, you owe both of them that.”

Steve shot a quick glance at Bucky. “There’s something else too that you need to know. I wish I could wait and let you process first, but we don’t have time. Ross knows we’re close and we need to move before he takes steps to cover himself. I never learned how to sugarcoat things so I’m just going to say it: Ross had the Winter Soldier activated to murder Howard.”

Tony’s face went blank. “What?”

“Another Hydra agent was keeping a file of blackmail material. We just found out from--”

Tony turned to look at Bucky, not listening to Steve. “You killed my mother?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. Sorrow, grief, pain, remorse, all of those things flitted across his face. It killed Steve to see it, but he knew that Bucky would take anything Tony threw at him.

“Tony--”

“He strangled my mother.” Steve registered that Tony must have seen the real autopsy report, if he knew they were murdered. But as the moment stretched, Steve could feel them all standing on the edge of a precipice, his heart was breaking for both, but he couldn’t let Tony take his pain out on Bucky, he just couldn’t.

He tried again. “Tony--”

Tony pointed at Bucky, but locked eyes with Steve. “I can’t look at him, get him out.”

Steve nodded to Bucky. Bucky hesitated, but headed towards the door. 

Once he heard the door shut, Steve turned back to Tony. “Yes, the Winter Soldier killed your parents, killed your mother. But Bucky didn’t.”

Tony was incredulous. “You’re defending him? To me?!”

“I’m defending Bucky. He--”

“That is some monumental hair splitting there pal. All for your, what... bff? And wow, how rich is that, coming from you. After all your sanctimonious speechifying. What happened to the fucking paragon of self-righteousness? How long have you known this?”

Steve felt his anger rising again too, knowing what Bucky had been going through, seeing it first hand. “I didn’t know how to tell you that your father was a Hydra collaborator. We found out that the Winter Soldier had been activated to assassinate Howard when we were looking for Bucky, but we didn’t know who had ordered it. I was afraid that if you knew, you’d go after Bucky. And then I would’ve had to stop you.”

Tony stared at him but didn’t say anything. Steve tried to make him understand. “He murdered people, without his consent. He had no free will. How did _you_ feel, when you realized what your company’s weapons were doing? How do you feel everytime you look at Wanda? And you always had a choice. Bucky never had that choice.”

Tony started pacing around the lab, picking up things and putting them down again, ignoring Steve. Steve could see how overwhelmed he was. 

“I know how hard this is, but please. Just read the file. Howard was involved, practically from the beginning, in what they did to Bucky. That doesn’t justify what happened to Howard, but he made choices and he pissed the wrong people off and then they used the Winter Soldier - another weapon he helped create - to do their dirty work for them. I don’t know how much your mother might have known, but…”

“Don’t.” Tony stopped, his voice sounded dangerous.

Steve said softly, “Peggy knew too. She was part of it just as much as Howard was. There are memos…”

Tony sighed, suddenly deflated and slumped down onto the couch. “Operation Paperclip.”

Steve took the chair opposite him. “They were my friends, Tony. I thought they understood how dangerous Hydra was. I thought that if I stopped Red Skull, they’d be able to destroy the rest of Hydra after I was gone. I was wrong. I still believe they thought they were doing the right thing, making hard choices for the greater good, but they were wrong too.” Steve held Tony’s eyes. “They were human, they made mistakes. Your dad may have been trying to fix one of his when they killed him, but we’ll probably never know for sure…”

“Get out.”

“Tony--”

Tony sounded exhausted. “Please just get out before I say something I’ll regret.”

Steve placed the data stick on the table between them. “When you’re ready.” 

As he left, the sounds of furniture smashing followed him out.

* * *

“What do you think he’s going to do?”

“I don’t know. But whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.” Steve stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking out over the city. 

They had gone back to the apartment after leaving Tony, but Steve was restless. He had a maelstrom of emotions running through him: sympathy for Tony, fear for Bucky, and white hot rage for Thaddeus Ross. 

But they couldn’t touch Ross, not yet. And a lot of what they could do was going to depend on Tony. 

As the sun started to dip in the sky, Steve desperately wanted a target.

Bucky grunted in surprise at his phone as he sat on the couch, and Steve turned to look at him. His phone had been pinging or vibrating almost nonstop since they’d gotten back home. 

“What exactly is going on with your phone?”

“Well, I set up some alerts to keep track of the lead I got from Nakia, and it looks like something just might be going down tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“Activity with their munitions supplier, mostly. It usually gets me the most accurate intel.”

“But?”

“But I also just got a notification from a source that I’m pretty sure they know I hacked.” 

“So what you’re saying is, they’re sending you an invitation?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I think we shouldn’t disappoint them.”

* * *

Steve ended up being a little disappointed. It wasn’t much of a fight, but he wasn’t going to complain.

He and Bucky had worked together like the last seventy years of separation had never happened. It was exhilarating. Everything came back, the timing, the anticipation. It felt like they were two halves of the same whole. Like Peggy had said so many years ago, you just know when you have the right partner. 

The facility Hydra had targeted was in a business district, so there weren’t many neighbors to bother after hours, but Steve and Bucky still made sure to handle things quickly and quietly. The strike team had intended to trap Bucky, but with two supersoldiers to contend with, they never stood a chance. 

As he and Bucky stood on the roof across the street, watching Rhodey’s team clean up the garbage, Steve felt truly free for the first time in a long time. No shield, no uniform… just him and Bucky kicking a little Hydra ass. 

It wasn't long before Rhodey touched down on their roof and opened his face shield.

Steve walked out to meet him.

Rhodey had his hands on his hips, “Are you planning to make a habit of this?”

Steve just smiled, because he couldn’t say it wasn’t a possibility.

“You know we’re gonna need to have a conversation about that.” Rhodey said, indicating where Bucky stood a few paces behind Steve.

“I know.” Steve wasn’t worried about Rhodey, he was Tony Stark’s best friend after all. “You realize we wouldn’t have known about any of this without him.” 

“There is that.” Rhodey turned to watch his team secure the prisoners for transport. “And I can’t argue with results.”

When he turned back to Steve, he said, “I spoke to Tony earlier.” He didn’t seem to expect a reply from Steve and continued, “He’s probably not going to be speaking to you for a while, but I thought you should know that the urgent matter you brought up is being addressed.”

Steve let out a long breath, “Thanks Rhodey.”

Rhodey nodded. “I’ll see you around, Cap.” Then he shut his face shield and flew off towards the city. 

Steve watched him go then turned back to Bucky. 

Bucky smirked at him and said, “Are we finished here?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled into Bucky’s eyes, “Let's go home.”


	7. Epilogue

Bucky shoved his gloved hands deeper into his pockets as he settled on a bench, his go bag tucked out of the way next to him. Christmas was only a couple of weeks away and the lunchtime crowd in Central Park was bustling and festive. Bucky didn’t much care about holiday trappings, but he did appreciate the marking of a day to reflect on what was important. 

Bucky told himself he would be fine with whatever happened, but that wasn’t true. He loved it in New York. He wanted to be able to stay and not have to look over his shoulder every time he stepped outside. But that decision wasn’t up to him. It was going to be up to a very select group of people, sitting not too far away in an ultra secure conference room in the United Nations Headquarters. 

A lot of things had happened very quickly after he and Steve had taken matters into their own hands and kicked some Hydra ass. It may not have been the smartest decision either of them had ever made, but no one could argue that it hadn’t shaken things up. And mostly in a good way so far. 

Bucky saw Steve first, the only person not wearing a hat of any kind, his dark blond waves flapping in the raw winter wind. Bucky had to grin, it was just so _Steve_. Romanov, or Natasha - he was still getting used to that - walked beside Steve, looking like a tiny pink popsicle next to Steve’s imposing bulk. 

As expected, their body language gave nothing away and passersby paid them little attention. Longer hair coupled with a full beard that Bucky longed to get his fingers into, was indeed good camouflage for an out of uniform Captain America and no one looked twice at either of them. 

Steve was talking to Natasha as they walked up, and Steve sat down next to Bucky on the bench while Natasha stood by the bench, subtly eyeing the passing park-goers. “Okay so, _was_ he embezzling funds?”

“Oh yeah,” Natasha was positively gleeful, “That’s how he was financing his little serum hunt. He was being smart about it, though. He kept it well under everyone’s radar. We just made sure it looked like he also took money from some of his own associates, since that’s the only way to get that crowd to care enough to do something. There aren’t a lot of rules in those circles, but a big one is don’t steal from your co-conspirators. They’re also finding it expedient to get as much distance from him politically as they can.”

Bucky suddenly felt light headed, barely finding his voice, “So it worked?”

Natasha’s eyes twinkled, “Yep, Ross is officially toast. We won’t have to worry about him for quite some time, and he’s on so many watch lists now, he won’t be able to sneeze without 15 intelligence agencies knowing about it.” 

Bucky blew out a breath. That had been tricky. Regardless of what the committee decided about him and Steve, Ross had been the bigger hurdle, the one that all of their contingency planning had hinged on. With Ross neutralized, they might actually have a chance.

“We still need to keep track of all his accomplices,” Steve said. 

Natasha’s smile was almost feral, “They’re all on a different list. Once we knew where to look, we found quite a lot of interesting tidbits.” 

Bucky asked, “What about Tony?”

“He’s dealing.” Steve took Bucky’s hand. “A lot of what we had found didn’t surprise him. And he asked to read the files about you, so he knows what they did to make you compliant and he knows the role his father played in that.”

Natasha said, “I’ve known Tony a long time, he’ll come around. He’s not quite ready to get together for BBQ at the Avengers Compound, but he’ll get there. He just needs some time.” Natasha’s expression sobered. “Look, I don’t think there is ever going to be an easy, clear cut answer to any of this. We just have to keep doing the best we can with what we’ve got.” 

“The Liaison Committee seems like a good start,” Steve said. “I admit I was skeptical, but I feel better about it with Rhodey and Wanda involved.” 

So long as Steve was satisfied, Bucky was too. But that wasn’t the issue that was uppermost in his mind, “What about Captain America?” He turned to Steve, “Did they go for your idea?”

Steve met his eye and they gave him the answer before Steve said the words. “Captain America is now officially a title and not a person.” Bucky went motionless. It was almost too good to hope for. Steve smiled at him and squeezed his hand, “For now, I’ll be sharing the title with Sam and then we’ll see how it goes from there.”

Natasha cleared her throat, “Tony also wanted me to pass on his congratulation and to tell you he’s going to start calling you Old Cap so he can start calling Sam, New Cap.” 

“Of course.” Steve snorted and shook his head.

“And with that, my work here is done.” Natasha’s eyes turned soft as she looked at Steve, he smiled back at her and nodded. Then she turned on her heel and melted into the surrounding crowd. 

Once they were alone, Bucky gently let go of Steve’s hand. “Okay, before the elephant crushes both of us, what did they say about me?” 

Steve gave him a level look. “They are making an offer, with conditions. But this is your choice and I will back you up whatever you decide. And if that means both of us getting on my bike and never looking back, I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Bucky braced himself. “Okay, what’s the offer?”

“They’ve agreed to release you into my custody.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, not sure if he heard correctly. “You mean, like probation?”

“Sort of. They will officially place you under my supervision but with oversight from the Liaison Committee. No one beyond the committee will be privy to any information about you.”

“That’s it?” It seemed too easy.

“Tony’s recommendation held a lot of sway in the decision to release you officially. Natasha also pointed out the possibility of being able to use you on Avengers ops, but we can talk about that later, I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Bucky understood Steve’s concern about that, but the possibility of being able to work with Steve again in any capacity was actually a giant incentive for Bucky. 

“So I would lose my wanted fugitive status, so long as they can keep tabs on me.”

“Right.”

“But I could live here, in New York?”

Steve's voice softened. “You can live wherever you want, Buck.”

“So long as I live with you.” 

“Right.”

Bucky couldn’t contain his grin. “You think you can handle me?” 

Steve’s smile grew wider. “It’ll be tough, but I’ll give it my best shot.” 

Bucky snorted. “So they seriously don't know that it’s you who’s the trouble maker out of the two of us?”

“Nope, I don’t think they do.”

Bucky gave a start as the kitten picked that moment to stretch and dig a claw into his abdomen. Steve had seen his coat wiggle and reached to pull it back and peer inside.

“Who is this?” Steve sounded delighted and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I’m calling her Alpine.” At Steve’s confused look Bucky laughed and said, “Shut up. It’s how your bed smelled that first night, it’s what it reminded me of. And she’s white so just… shut up.” 

“Hello, Alpine,“ Steve whispered and the kitten actually purred when he scratched her head. Then he leaned in and kissed Bucky softly before standing up and grabbing Bucky’s duffle. “We’ll need to get some supplies for her on the way home.”

Bucky reached out to take Steve’s hand. “I’ve got some stuff for her in my duffle, but _I_ could use a hot dog.”

As they headed off, Bucky cocked his head. “Is that, are you humming Mariah?”

Steve didn’t answer exactly, just added the lyrics to the tune he’d started humming, “... All I want for Christmas, is youuuu.”

Bucky could actually feel his face heating up, “Oh my god, you’re such a sap.”

Steve just continued on, singing the next verse even louder, while pulling Bucky in snuggly with a one armed hug.

People were starting to notice, since Steve couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Bucky covered his face with his free hand, but Steve just laughed.

It was the best sound in the world.

Art on [Tumblr](https://artgroves.tumblr.com/post/635851707412332544/after-dc-hed-seen-long-dark-hair-and-broad) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_artgroves_)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I’ll be honest, the number of wonderful comments we have gotten is a bit overwhelming for me. Every single one of them is a gift and I’m so glad our story has created a bit of happiness.
> 
> There were a lot of first here for me: first Bang, first time trying to write something over 3K, first attempt at a plot, first sex scene(!!). And I could not have done any of that without Alby, who's help made every part of the story better. I simply could not have asked for a better collaborator. 
> 
> And Alby’s art inspired me every step of the way. The final image of Bucky and Steve and Alpine in the park - of them as a family - is my idea of heaven. 
> 
> Bucky and Steve deserved a happy ending to their fairy tale, I wanted to try to give that to them.


End file.
